Jo  mi   3v;ett 


-r.5 . 


Great,  wide,  beautiful,  wonderful  World. 


YOUNG  FOLKS' 


BOOK    OF    POETRY 

CONTAINING 

A    COLLECTION    OF    THE    BEST    SHORT    AND    EASY 

POEMS  FOR  READING  AND  RECITATION 

IN  SCHOOLS  AND  FAMILIES 


SELECTED  AND  ARRANGED 


LOOMIS    J.   CAMPBELL 


BOSTON 
LEE    AND    SHEPARD,    PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK 
CHARLES    T.  DILLINGHAM 

1880 


Tlie  Editor  wishes  to  acknowledge^  with  thanks^  his 
indebtedness  to  Messrs.  Houghton,  Osgood,  &  Co.,  D. 
Appleton  &  Co.,  Charles  Scrihner's  Sons,  and  G.  P. 
Putnain's  Sons,  for  permission  to  print  selected  poems 
from  copyright  works  published  by  them. 


Copyright,  1880,  bt  Loomis  J.  Campbell. 


PEEFAOE. 


The  First  Part  of  this  book  is  composed  of  Simple 
Poems  which  will  be  likely  to  interest  and  amuse  young 
children  who  are  not  3-et  very  expert  in  the  art  of 
reading.  It  is  hoped  that  the  selections  will  also  foster 
a  high  moral  tone  of  feeling,  and  yield  an  influence  for 
right  behavior  and  conduct. 

The  Select  Poems  in  the  Second  and  Third  Parts 
are  intended  for  children  between  the  ages  of  eight 
or  nine  and  thirteen  or  fourteen  j^ears.  The  plan  of 
the  book  differs,  in  some  respects,  from  that  of  any 
other  collection  which  has  come  under  the  notice  of 
the  editor  or  compiler.  The  pieces  are  short  and 
worthy  of  being  committed  to  memory.  They  are 
also  well  fitted  for  reading  aloud  and  for  recitation. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  short  poems  of  great  ex- 
cellence, sufficient  in  number  to  fill  man}'  volumes  of 
the  size  of  the  present  one,  might  have  been  easily 
found.  The  difficult}'  has  been  to  select  so  small  a 
quantity  from  the  vast  poetical  wealth  which  has  been 


VI  PREFACE. 

accumulating  for  four  hundred  years.  Unusual  care, 
it  is  believed,  has  been  taken  to  present  onh'  such 
poems  as  should  be  favorites  in  School  and  at  Home. 
That  a  piece,  when  its  merits  were  under  considera- 
tion, should  be  true  poetry,  has  been  deemed  of  the 
first  importance,  and  if,  in  any  case,  there  has  been  a 
relaxing  from  a  high  poetic  standard,  it  has  been  on 
account  of  some  other  excellence.  Spirited  rhetorical 
pieces  fitted  to  instil  into  the  minds  of  children  right 
principles  and  sentiments,  form  a  large  proportion  of 
the  selections. 

The  editor  would  consider  his  work  as  wholly  lost, 
if  much  the  greater  part  of  what  is  contained  herein 
should  not  readily  win  the  ear,  and  touch  the  heart, 
of  the  children  into  whose  hands  the  book  ma}'  come. 
The  design  has  been  to  please  its  youthful  readers, 
as  well  as  to  benefit  them :  hence  cheerful  and  lively 
pieces  have  been  especially  sought.  Even  those  poems 
containing  a  devotional  element  or  flavor  are  not  of 
a  morbid  cast, — such  as  declare  this  world  a  vale  of 
tears,  and  depict  this  life  as  a  misfortune  which  every 
good  person  rejoices  to  get  rid  of.  Such  poems  have 
been  chosen,  rather,  as  speak  of  the  world  kindh',  as  a 
place  where  there  are  many  beautiful  things  and  many 
healthful  pleasures  to  be  seen  and  enjo3'ed.  Thus  we 
may  teach  faith  and  trust  in  the  wise  and  good  Father 
of  all. 


PREFACE.  Vii 

In  the  teaching  of  children  there  is  danger,  in  this 
*' eniinentl}'  practical  age,"  that  the  imagination  will 
be  too  much  neglected,  and  that  they  will  lose  some- 
thing of  great  value,  which  cannot  be  made  up  to 
them  b}'  all  the  imperial  bushels  of  facts  which  may 
be  poured  into  them.  The  Fairies  have  fallen  much 
into  disrepute ;  the  Cow  no  longer  jumps  over  the 
moon ;  being  a  real  graminivorous  ruminating  quad- 
ruped, she  hardly  jumps  under  it !  Meanwhile  is  truth 
more  honored  in  this  age  of  gaslight  and  facts  than 
in  the  darker  age  of  rushlight  and  fancies? 

The  compiler  wishes  to  say  a  good  word  for  the 
practice  of  learning  by  heart.  In  what  way  can  the 
taste  be  so  well  cultivated  and  refined,  and  the  gentler 
feelings  fostered,  as  by  committing  to  memory  a  num- 
ber of  choice  poems?  The  beaut^^  of  a  true  poem  can- 
not be  fully  known  until  it  is  learned  by  heart.  It  is 
then  ours,  a  companion  and  a  jo}'  forever,  and,  being 
interwoven  with  our  earliest  recollections,  it  grows 
more  and  more  precious  as  we  grow  older.  This, 
also,  is  something  well  worth  doing,  —  to  train  and 
strengthen  the  memory  in  the  period  of  life  in  which 
it  may  best  be  done. 

When  one  of  the  poems  has  been  selected  for  the 
class  to  learn  by  heart,  the  teacher  should  make  sure 
that  all  the  pupils  thoroughly  comprehend  the  piece. 
It  is  better  to  put  them  in  the  way  of  finding  out  for 


Viii  PREFACE, 

themselves  than  to  give  them  the  information.  What 
is  the  main  idea  of  the  poem  is  a  question  which 
should  be  always  asked.  This  main  idea,  or  the  gen- 
eral meaning,  should  be  brought  out  so  as  to  be  clearlj^ 
seen  and  realized. 

After  the  text  has  been  studied,  and  all  difficulties 
are  overcome,  the  poem  may  be  correctly  copied  b}' 
each  pupil,  and  then  well  learned  b}^  heart.  In  most 
cases,  the  latter  part  may  be  out-of-school  work. 

When  the  piece  is  publicly  recited  it  should  be  done 
with  feeling  and  effect.  Attention  should  be  paid  to 
pronunciation,  inflection,  emphasis,  etc. 

Such  selections  as  these  may  be  used  with  great 
advantage  in  teaching  young  scholars  the  earlj-  steps 
of  English  composition.  They  mn,y  be  required  to 
write  out  the  meaning  of  the  poem  in  their  own  words, 
—  to  paraphrase  it.  Care  should  be  taken  that  the 
ideas  are  correctly  reproduced  and  in  good  form.  The 
pupil  should  be  taught  not  to  be  afraid  to  use  the 
vocabulary  which  he  already  possesses.  It  is  too  much 
to  expect  him  to  furnish  ideas :  these  come  later  on. 
Practice  of  this  kind  with  the  pen  would  be  of  much 
use  where  technical  grammar,  as  now  taught  in  most 
of  the  schools,  is  useless.  It  would  be  a  help  in  teach- 
ing how  to  write  one's  native  tongue. 

L.  J.  C. 

March,  1880. 


CONTENTS. 


The  Three  Parts  are  paged  separately;  hence  the  poem  must  be  looked 
for  in  the  Part  and  Page  as  here  indicated;  for  example,  to  find  the  piece 
Abou  Ben  Adhem  and  the  Angel  .  .  .  Leigh  Hunt  ...  3  75 
look  in  the  Third  Part  and  in  Page  numbered  75. 

Part  Page 

Abou  Ben  Adhem  and  the  Angel    Leigh  Hunt     .    .  3  75 

After  a  Storm D.  B.  Goodale     .  2  85 

Answer  to  a  Child's  Question  .     S.  T.  Coleridge   .  2  4 

Ant  and  the  Cricket,  The 1  56 

Aspirations  of  Youth     ....    J".  Montgomery    .  3  95 

Baby  Lapp's  Ride 1  9 

Barley  Mowers'  Song,  The    .    .    M.  Howitt .    .    .  3  20 

Be  Polite 1  12 

Beautiful  Things 2  57 

Beautiful  Things Jane  Taylor   .    .  3  79 

Bee,  The 1  41 

Best  Wealth,  The       3  54 

Better  Land,  The Mrs.  Remans.    .  3  63 

Beware  of  the  Wolf      .    .    .    .    A.  L.  O.  E.    .    .2  98 

Bird  in  a  Cage,  The W.  L.  Bowles     .  3  76 

Birds  in  Summer ^.    .    M.  Howitt  .    .     .  2  21 

Bird's  Song,  The 1  84 

Bluebell,  The 3  18 

Bluebird,  The E.  H,  Miller  .     .  2  4 

Boat  Song,  A Sir  E.  B,  Lytton   2  8 

iz 


X  CONTENTS. 

Part  Page 

Boy  and  the  Sheep,  The    .    .    .    Ann  Taylor    .    .  1  44 

Bkook,  The .    Mrs.  C.  Beaton  .  2  17 

Boys'  Play  and  Giels'  Play      .    Mrs.  Hawtrey     .  2  94 

Brown  Thrush,  The    .    .    ^    .    .    Lucy  Larcom.    .2  11 

Bugle  Song A.  Tennyson  .     .  3  94 

Builders,  The H.  W.  Longfellow  3  99 

Building  of  the  Nest,  The    .    .    M.  E.  Sangster  .  3  23 

Busy  Bee,  The J.  Watts     .     .\l  41 

Buttercups  and  Daisies      .    .    .    M.  Howitt .    .    .  2  33 

By-and-By 2  59 

Camel's  Nose,  The L.  H.  Sigourney    3  88 

Casabianca Mrs.  Hemans.    .  3  12 

Cherish  Kindly  Feelings  .    .    .    M.  A.  Kidder     .  2  18 

Chick-a-de-dee F.  C.  Woodworth  1  76 

Child-Faith S.  W.  Lander     .  2  73 

Child's  Evening  Hymn,  A  .    .    .    Mrs.  Follen    .    .  2  72 

Child's  May  Song,  The 1  3 

Child's  Talent,  The J.  Edmeston  .    .  2  100 

Choice  Extracts 3  68 

Choice  Stanzas 1  32 

Choice  Stanzas 2  63 

Chosen  Tree,  The 2  30 

Cleanliness C.  and  M.  Lamb    3  24 

Clucking  Hen,  The Aunt  Effie .    .    .  1  54 

Coming  Storm,  The Lilliput  Levee     .  1  52 

Common  Things Mrs.IIawkesworthZ  40 

Contentment J.  Miller    .    .    .  3  104 

Coral  Grove,  The  .    .    .'  .    .    .    J.  G.  Percival     .  3  102 

Creation,  The C.  F.  Alexander    3  66 

Creator,  The 1  48 

Crocus,  Tujs 3  53 


CONTENTS,              ^  xi 

Part  Page 

Daffodils,  The W.  Wordsworth    3  65 

Daffy-down-dilly Miss  Warner .     .  2  75 

Daisy,  The 1  63 

Daisy,  The 2  5 

Dakling  Little  Girl,  The 1  25 

Daybreak J.  Fletcher     .    .  2  62 

Deeds  of  Kindness F.  P 1  75 

Dewdrop  and  the  Stream,  The 3  49 

Discontent S.  O.  Jewett   .    .  3  47 

Divine  Care 3  102 

Doing  Good 2  77 

Don't  Kill  the  Birds      ....    J).  C  Colesworthy  1  77 

Don't  Rob  the  Birds,  Boys 1  15 

Do  Your  Best 1  86 

Duty 2  59 

Eagle,  The A.  Tennyson  .     .  3  9 

Entertainment C.  T.  Brooks  .    .  3  52 

Evening  Hymn 1  88 

Evening  Prayer,  An B.  Barton  .    .    .  2  36 

Example  of  Birds,  The 3  39 

Fairies,  The W.  Allingham     .  2  9 

Fairy  Queen's  Song,  The 1  70 

Farewell,  A A.  Tennyson  .     .  3  37 

Faults  of  Others V.C  Colesworthy  2  19 

Flowers  are  Blooming 1  81 

Fly,  The T.  Millar    ...  1  64 

Fountain,  The J.  B.  Lowell  .     .  3  5 

Four  Seasons,  The 2  25 

Fkeddie  and  the  Cherry-Tree  .    Aunt  Effie  .     .     .  1  55 

Gentle  Deeds H.  P.  Biddle  .    .  2  104 

George  Nidiver B.  W.  Emerson  .  3  96 


xu  CONTENTS. 

Part  Page 

Glad  as  a  Bird C.  S.  Rogers  .    .  3  50 

God  is  Good  and  Kind    ....    J.  Burton  .    .    .  1  21 

God  Sees  Me 1  80 

God's  Caee  of  Animals  ....    Jane  Taylor    .    .  1  22 

God's  Goodness 1  78 

God's  Love  for  All 2  90 

God's  Tender  Care 1  87 

Golden  Rule,  The J.  Watts     ...  1  13 

Good  Counsel From  the  German  2  27 

Good  Life,  Long  Life     .    .    .    .    F.  Bonar    .    .    .  3  72 

Good  Night  and  Good  Morning     B.  M.  Milnes  .    .  2  42 

Grandpapa Mrs.  Craik     .    .  2  71 

Harvest  Home 2  24 

Heavens  declare  God's  Glory, 

The J.  Addison     .     .  3  93 

Hiawatha's  Hunting H.  W.Longfellow  2  87 

Hie  away     . Sir  W.  Scott  .     .  2  22 

High  and  Low D.  R.  Goodale     .  2  54 

Hohenlinden T.  Campbell   .     .  3  85 

Holiday,  The Mrs.  Haw  trey     .  1  36 

Holidays,  The 1  38 

Honest  Bird,  The 2  60 

Honest  Name,  An 2  65 

Hours  spent  Aright 1  24 

How  Sleep  the  Brave  \ .    .    .    .     W.  Collins .    .    .  3  98 

How  THE  Gates  came  Ajar 3  60 

How  THE  New  Year  came  .    .    .    M.  M.  Dodge  .    .  3  82 

Hymn  to  the  Seasons      .    .    .    .    R.  Ileber    .    .    .  3  41 

I  Can  and  I  Will 3  11 

If  ever  I  See 1  19 

I-Have  and  0-Had-I C.  T.  Brooks  .    .  3  16 


CONTENTS.  xiii 

Part  Page 

Ill-natured  Brier,  The     .    .    .    Mrs.  A.  Bache    .  2    43 

Is  IT  You  ? Mrs.  Goodwin     .  1    14 

Kind  Word,  A D.C.  Colesworthy  2    37 

Kindness  to  Animals 1    20 

Lady-bird!  Lady-bird!     .    .     .     .     C.  B.  Southey     .  2      6 

Lady  Moon. — A  Child's  Song     .    R.  M.  Milnes  .    .  1      1 

Lady  Tabbyskin's  Ball  ....     Mrs.  C.  Beaton  .  3    24 

Lady  Weaver,  The 2    55 

Lamb,  The W.  Blake  .     .     .  1    49 

Landing    of    the     Pilgrim    Fa- 
thers      Mrs,  Hemans.     .  3    31 

Lapland Miss  Aiken     .     .  2    66 

Laughing  Song,  A W.  Blake  ...  2      7 

Law  of  Charity,  The      .    .    .     .     T.  Gisborne    .     .  2  105 

Lesson  from  the  Flowers 2    34 

Lily,  The Jane  Taylor    .     .  1    62 

Lily's  Ball Fun  and  Earnest  2    28 

Lily's  Word,  A 3      7 

Lion,  The M.  Howitt ...  3      9 

Little  Bell J.  Westwood  .     .  2    45 

Little  Boy  and  the  Stars,  The    Aunt  Effie  ...  1    11 

Little  by  Little 1    51 

Little  by  Little 3    15 

Little  Efforts 1    27 

Little  Girl's  Good-by,  A    .     .    .     G.  Cooper  ...  1    84 

Little  Girl's  Fancies,  A    .     .     .     Poems  for  a  Child  2    80 

Little  Girl's  Fawn,  The    .    .    .    A.  Marvell     .    .  3    27 

Little  Raindrops Aunt  Effie  ...  1    10 

Little  Sorrow A,  B.  Green   .     .  3    44 

Little  Star 1    21 

Little  Things 1    51 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

Part  Page 

Little  White  Lily G.  MacDonald    .  1  25 

Little  Woeker's  Song,  The 1  68 

Lord  and  Lady  Robin     .     .     .    .    JE.  A.  Braddock .  1  29 

Loss  OF  the  Royal  George     .    .     W.  Cowper     .    .  3  80 

Lost  Love,  The W.  Wordsworth  .  3  60 

Luck  and  Labor Mrs.  C.  A.  Soule  3  45 

Lucy  Gray W.  Wordsworth  .  3  35 

Lullaby A.  Tennyson  .    .  1  9 

March W.  Wordsworth  .  2  19 

Maiden  and  the  Bird,  The    .    .    L.  M.  Child    .    .  1  43 

Mary  and  Nelly C.  W.  Hall     .    .  1  71 

May T.B.  Miller   .     .  1  61 

Merry  are  the  Bells 1  67 

Mice,  The 1  30 

Miller  of  the  Dee,  The    .     .     .     C  Mackay     .     .  3  89 

Months,  The D.  B.  Goodale     .  2  52 

Morning  Hymn 1  87 

Motes  in  the  Sunbeams  .    .    .    .     C.  and  M.  Lamb .  2  94 

Mother-bird,  The F.  Benedict    .     .  1  18 

Mountain  and  the  Squirrel,  The    B.  W.  Emerson  .  2  99 

Mr.  Nobody Biverside  Mag.    .  2  96 

Never  put  off 2  49 

New  Moon,  The Mrs.  Follen    .     .  1  2 

Night W.  Blake  .     .    .  2  50 

Night  with  a  Wolf,  A   ....    B.  Taylor  .    .    .  3  29 
Nightingale     and     the    Glow- 
worm, The W.  Cowper     .     .  3  78 

Noble  Man,  The D.  C.  Colesworthy  2  101 

Noble  Nature,  The Ben  Jonson    .     .  3  73 

Nobly  Born,  The E.  S.  H.     .    .    .  3  100 

Northern  Lights,  The    .    ,    .    .    B.  F.  Taylor  .    .  3  38 


CONTENTS.  XV 

Part  Page 

NoKTH  WiiST),  The Gammer  Gurton  .  1  6 

Old  Gaelic  Ceadle  Song,  An 1  35 

Old  Kitchen  Clock,  The 1  16 

Old  Proverb,  The Effie  Johnson  .     .  2  74 

One  Thing  at  a  Time      .    .    .    .    M.  A.  Stodart     .  1  28 

Our  Daily  Bread 3  58 

Our  State J.  G.  Whlttier     .  3  73 

Perseverance B.  S.  S.  Andros  .  3  46 

Persevere H.  W.  Dulcken  .  1  45 

Pet  Lamb,  The 1  82 

Piper,  The W.  Blake  ...  2  3 

Pond  and  the  Brook,  The 1  46 

Pretty  is  that  Pretty  does  .     .    A.  Gary      .     .     .  2  56 

Providence B.  Heber    .     .     .  2  106 

Pussy's  Class M.  M.  Dodge  .     .  2  G7 

Quarrelsome  Kittens,  The 1  47 

Rainbow,  The J.  Kehle     .    .     .  3  43 

Kain  in  Summer W.  C.  Bennett    .  2  85 

Kanger ^.    Poems  for  a  Child  2  69 

River,  The 2  78 

Robert  of  Lincoln W.  C.  Bryant     .  2  1^ 

Robin  Redbreast W.  Allingham     .  2  15 

Robin  Redbreasts,  The  ....    Aunt  Effie  ...  1  16 

Rome  wasn't  built  in  a  Day      .    A.  Gary      .     .     .  3  13 

Hook  and  the  Lark,  The 3  32 

Seeds  and  Fruits J.  Kehle     .     .     .  3  63 

Seven  times  One.  —  J^xultation      J.  Ingelow  .     .     .  2  86 

Short  Sermon,  A A.  Gary      .     .     .  2  47 

Shower,  The 1  34 

Sleep,  Baby,  Sleep Fi^om  the  German  1  8 

Sleigh  Song G.  W.  Pettee .    .  3  22 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

Part  Page 

Snail,  The 1  20 

Snow 1  37 

Snow  Falling J.  J.  Piatt     .    .  3  43 

Snow  Man,  The A.  I).  Green   .    .  1  74 

Song  for  Little  May,  A     .    .    .    E.  H.  Miller  .    .  1  66 

Song  of  Life C.  Mackay     .    .3  70 

Song  of  Summer M.  M.  Dodge  .    .  1  52 

Sorrowful  Sea-Gull,  The.    .    .     Child-World  .    .  3  26 

Sowing 3  62 

Speak  Gently 3  57 

Spring C.  Thaxter      .    .  2  20 

Spring C.  of  Orleans  .    .  3  39 

Spring  Song 1  3 

Spring-Time From  the  German  2  65 

Stars Poems  for  a  Child  1  45 

Stop,  Stop,  Pretty  Water      .    .    Mrs.  Follen     .    .  1  7 

Strawberries J.  T.  Trowbridge  2  82 

Streamlet,  The M.  A.  Stodart   •.3  6 

Summer  Days W.  Sugden     .    .  2  84 

Summer's  Day,  The M.  Barr     .     .     .  1  62 

Summer  Moods J.  Clare      .    .    .  3  65 

Sunbeam,  The Mrs.  Remans .    .  2  38 

Sunshine  and  Shower 2  91 

Suppose P.  Cary      ...  1  73 

Sweet  Song  of  Songs,  The      .    .     G.  Massey .    .    .  3  70 

Swinging  Song,  A 1  69 

Tell  Me  what  the  Mill  doth  say    ^.  Capern  .    .    .  1  59 

Thank  You,  Pretty  Cow     .    .    .    Jane  Taylor   .    .  1  5 

Thanksgiving-Day L.  M.  Child    .    .  1  40 

Three  Little  Chicks 1  17 

Thrush's  Nest,  The J.  Clare     ,    .    .  3  76 


CONTENTS.  xvn 

Part  Page 

Tiger,  The W.  Blake  ...  3  8 

To  A  Redbreast J.  Langhorne .     .  1  50 

To  THE  Land  of  Gold     .     .     .     .     W.  E.  Littlewood  3  34 

Too  Clever 2  97 

Tragic  Story,  A W.  M.  Thackeray  3  87 

Tree,  The B.  Bjornson    .     .  3  3 

True  Greatness Lady  Carew   .    .  3  92 

Trust B.  of  Canterbury   3  105 

Trust  in  God,  and  Do  the  Right    N.  Macleod    .     .  3  56 

Truthful  Part,  The 1  81 

Two  AND  One From  the  German  1  29 

Two  Pictures A.  B.  Green   .     .  3  18 

Under  the  Greenwood  Tree      .     W.  Shakespeare .  3  4 

Violet,  The 2  35 

Violet,  The Jane  Taylor    .     .  3  55 

Violets M.  Moultrie    .     .  1  79 

Voice  of  Spring,  The M.  Howitt .    .    .  1  60 

Voice  within,  The 2  58 

Wasp  and  the  Bee,  The 1  58 

Watch  Dog,  The A.  Smart   .    .    .  1  53 

Waves  on  the  Seashore,  The    .    Aunt  Effie .    .    .  1  34 

We  are  Seven W.  Wordsworth .  2  39 

Whale,  The 1  65 

What  a  Child  has 1  23 

What  can  Little  Hands  do? 2  51 

What  does  Little  Birdie  say?      A.  Tennyson  .    .  1  36 

What  God  hath  made     ....     W.  B.  O.  Peahody  2  36 

What  I  live  for G.  L.  Banks  .     .  3  90 

What  the  Winds  bring  .    ,    .    .    E.  C.  Stedman    .  1  31 

Which  is  your  Lot  ? 2  49 

Which  loved  Best? J.  Allison  ...  1  13 


xviii  CONTENTS. 

Part  Page 

Wind,  The 1  5 

Wind  and  the  Leaves,  The   .    .    G.  Cooper  ...  1  65 

Winter From  the  German  2  23 

Winter  Jewels 2  6 

Wishes  and  Realities 2  102 

Wishing W.  Allingham    .  1  39 

Words  we  speak,  The 2  54 

World,  The M.  Browne     .    .  2  79 

Worm,  The T.  Gisborne    .    .  3  77 


1  'm  a  merry  little  maiden ; 
My  heart  is  light  and  gay. 


P-3' 


Hit^  fat?  %m^  i\Mun. 


:^m 


*  1  * 
LADY  MOON.— A  CHILD'S   SONG. 

" I  see  the  moon,  and  the  moon  sees  me: 
God  bless  the  moon,  and  God  bless  me." 

Old  Rhyme. 

Lady  Moon,  Lady  Moon,  where  are  you  roving? 

Over  the  sea. 
Lady  Moon,  Lady  Moon,  whom  are  you  loving  ? 

All  that  love  me. 

Are  you  not  tired  with  rolling,  and  never 

Resting  to  sleep  ? 
Why  look  so  pale  and  so  sad,  as  forever 

Wishing  to  weep? 

Ask  me  not  this,  little  child,  if  you  love  me : 

You  are  too  bold. 
I  must  obey  my  dear  Father  above  me, 

And  do  as  I'm  told. 


•1  SIMPLE  POEMS 

Lady  Moon,  Lady  Moon,  where  are  you  roving? 

Over  the  sea. 
Lady  Moon,  Lady  Moon,  whom  are  you  loving? 

All  that  love  me. 

KiCHARD  MONCKTON  MiLNES. 

(Lord  Houghton). 
*  2  * 
THE   NEW   MOON. 

O  MOTHEE,  how  pretty  the  moon  looks  to-night ! 

She  was  never  so  cunning  before ; 
Her  two  little  horns  are  so  sharp  and  so  bright ! 

I  hope  she'll  not  grow  any  more. 

If  I  were  up  there  with  you  and  my  friends, 
We'd  ^  rock  in  it  nicely,  you'd  ^  see  ; 

We'd  sit  in  the  middle,  and  hold  by  both  ends : 
Oh,  what  a  bright  cradle  'twould^  be ! 

We'd  call  to  the  stars  to  keep  out  of  the  way, 
Lest  we  should  rock  over  their  toes ; 

And  then  we  would  rock  till  the  dawn  of  the  day, 
And  see  where  the  pretty  moon  goes. 

And  there  we  would  stay  in  the  beautiful  skies, 
And  through  the  bright  clouds  we  would  roam ; 

We'd  see  the  sun  set,  and  see  the  sun  rise. 
And  on  the  next  rainbow  come  home. 

Mrs.  Follen. 

1  we'd,  we  would.  «  you'd,  you  would, 

s  'twould,  it  would. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES. 

*  3  * 
SPRING  SONG. 

The  spring  is  come  ! 

The  spring  is  come  ! 
Again  the  earth  rejoices ; 

All  streams  and  rills, 

And  green-clad  hills, 
Lift  up  their  cheerful  voices. 

The  spring  is  come  I 

The  spring  is  come  ! 
The  merry  birds  are  singing ; 

And  in  the  grass, 

Where'er  we  pass. 
The  daisies  white  are  springing. 

The  spring  is  come  ! 

The  spring  is  come  I' 
The  soft  south  wind  is  blowing ; 

And  in  the  dell  ^ 

Where  violets  dwell, 
We  hear  the  brooklet  ^  flowing. 

*  4  * 

THE   CHILD'S   MAY   SONG. 

A  MERRY  little  maiden. 

In  the  merry  month  of  May, 

Came  tripping  o'er  the  meadow. 
As  she  sang  this  merry  lay  ^ :  — 

1  dell,  little  valley.  2  brooklet i  little  brook. 

8  lay,  song. 


SIMPLE  POEMS 

"  I'm  a  merry  little  maiden : 
My  heart  is  light  and  gay  ; 

And  I  love  the  sunny  weather 
In  the  merry  month  of  May. 

"  I  love  the  pretty  lambkins  ^ 
That  gayly  sport  and  play, 

And  make  such  frolic  gambols  ^ 
In  the  merry  month  of  May. 

"  I  love  the  little  birdies 
That  sit  upon  the  spray,^ 

And  sing  me  such  a  blithe  ^  song 
In  the  merry  month  of  May. 

"  I  love  the  blooming  flowers 
That  grow  on  bank  and  brae,^ 

And  with  them  weave  my  garlands 
In  the  merry  month  of  May. 

"  I  love  my  little  sisters 

And  my  brothers  every  day  ; 

And  I  seem  to  love  them  better 
In  the  merry  month  of  May." 


*  lambkins,  little  lambs.  8  spray,  small  branch,  sprig. 

*  frolic  gambols,  playful  leaps.      *  blithe  {th  as  in  fAi«),  joyful. 

6  brae,  slope  of  a  hill. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES. 

*  5  * 

THANK   YOU,   PRETTY   COW. 

Thank  you,  pretty  cow,  that  made 
Pleasant  milk  to  soak  my  bread, 
Every  day  and  every  night. 
Warm  and  sweet,  and  fresh  and  white. 

Do  not  chew  the  hemlock  rank  ^ 
Growing  on  the  weedy  bank 
But  the  yellow  cowslips  eat : 
They  will  make  it  very  sweet. 

Where  the  bubbling  water  flows, 
Where  the  purple  violet  grows, 
Where  the  grass  is  fresh  and  fine, 
Pretty  cow,  go  there  and  dine. 

Jane  Taylor. 

*  6  * 
THE  WIND. 

I  AM  the  wind. 

And  I  come  very  fast : 
Through  the  tall  wood 

I  blow  a  loud  blast. 

Sometimes  I  am  soft 

As  a  sweet,  gentle  child ;    ' 

I  play  with  the  flowers. 
Am  quiet  and  mild  : 

1  rank,  coarse,  large. 


O  SIMPLE  POEMS 

And  then  out  so  loud 

All  at  once  I  can  roar ; 
If  you  wish  to  be  quiet, 

Close  window  and  door. 

I  am  the  wind, 

And  I  come  very  fast: 
Through  the  tall  wood 

I  blow  a  loud  blast. 

*  7  * 
THE   NORTH   WIND. 

The  north  wind  doth  blow,  and  we  shall  have  snow, 
And  what  will  the  Robin  do  then,  poor  thing  ?  ' 

He'll  sit  in  a  barn,^  and  keep  himself  warm. 
And  hide  his  head  under  his  wing,  poor  thing ! 

The  north  wind   doth   blow,  and  we   shall  have 
snow; 
And  what  will  the  Swallow  do  then,  poor  thing  ? 
Oh !  do  you  not  know  that  he's  gone  long  ago 
To  a  country  much  warmer  than  ours  ?  —  poor 
thing ! 

The  north  wind  doth  blow,  and  we  shall  have 
snow ; 
And  what  will  the  Honey-bee  do,  poor  thing? 
In  his  hive  he  willstay  till  the  cold's  gone  away. 
And  then  he'll  come  out  in  the  spring,  poor 
thing ! 

1  The  English  robin  stays  in  barns  during  winter;  the  American  robin 


AND  BASF  RHYMES.  7 

The  north  wind  doth  blow,  and  we   shall  have 
snow ; 
And  what  will  the  Dormouse^  do  then,  poor 
thing  ? 
Rolled  up  like  a  ball,  in  his  nest  snug  and  small, 
He'll  sleep  till  warm  weather  comes  back,  poor 
thing ! 

The  north  wind  doth  blow,  and  we  shall  have 
snow ; 
And   what  will   the    Children    do    then,   poor 
things  ? 
When  lessons  are  done,  they'll  jump,  skip,  and 
run. 
And  play  till  they  make  themselves  warm,  poor 
things ! 

Gammer  GuRTOif. 

*  8  * 

STOP,    STOP,   PRETTY  WATER. 

"  Stop,  stop,  pretty  water ! " 
Said  Mary,  one  day, 
To  a  frolicsome  brook 
That  was  running  away. 

"  You  run  on  so  fast ! 
I  wish  you  would  stay : 
My  boat  and  my  flowers 
You  will  carry  away. 

1  dormouse,  an  animal  in  England  somewhat  like  the  common  mouse, 
but  larger.    It  remains  torpid  during  winter. 


SIMPLE  POEMS 

"  But  I  will  run  after,  — 
Mother  says  that  I  may,  — 
For  I  would  know  where 
You  are  running  away." 

So  Mary  ran  on ; 
But  I  have  heard  say, 
That  she  never  could  find 
Where  the  brook  ran  away. 

Mrs.  Follen. 

*  9  * 
SLEEP,   BABY,    SLEEP! 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep ! 

Thy  father  watches  the  sheep ; 
Thy  mother  is  shaking  the  dreamland  tree, 
And  down  comes  a  little  dream  on  thee. 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep ! 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep  I 

The  large  stars  are  the  sheep ; 
The  little  stars  are  the  lambs,  I  guess ; 
And  the  gentle  moon  is  the  shepherdess. 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep  I 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep ! 

Our  Saviour  loves  his  sheep ; 
He  is  the  Lamb  of  God  on  high. 
Who  for  our  sakes  came  down  to  die. 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep ! 

From  the  Gebmait. 


AND  EASY   RHYMES.  l) 

*  10  * 
LULLABY. 

Sweet  and  low,  sweet  and  low, 

Wind  of  the  western  sea. 
Low,  low,  breathe  and  blow. 

Wind  of  the  western  sea ! 
Over  the  rolling  waters  go. 
Come  from  the  dying  moon,  and  blow, 

Blow  him  again  to  me ; 
While  my  little  one,  while  my  pretty  one,  sleeps. 

Sleep  and  rest,  sleep  and  rest. 

Father  will  come  to  thee  soon ; 
Rest,  rest,  on  mother's  breast. 

Father  will  come  to  thee  soon ; 
Father  will  come  to  his  babe  in  the  nest, 
Silver  sails  all  out  of  the  west. 

Under  the  silver  moon : 
Sleep,  my  little  one,  sleep,  my  pretty  one,  sleep. 

Alfred  Tenhyson. 

*  11  * 

BABY  LAPP'S   RIDE. 

"  Now  give  us  a  wrap," 
Says  the  father  Lapp,^ 
"  And  I'll  take  baby  a  ride  to-day  : 

1  Lapp,  one  who  lives  in  Lapland,  a  cold  country  across  the  ocean,  and 
far  up  north. 


10  SIMPLE  POEMS 

Swiftly  we'll  go 
Over  the  snow, 
Ever  and  ever  so  far  away  !  " 

So  up  in  a  wrap 

They  tuck  little  Lapp, 
Till  all  you  can  see  is  baby's  nose ; 

And  safe  from  harm, 

On  father's  arm, 
How  loud  and  merrily  baby  crows  ! 

For  they're  all  the  same. 

Whatever  their  name. 
Or  whether  at  North  or  South  they  grow ; 

They  love  to  ride 

By  father's  side 
Whenever  the  ground  is  white  with  snow. 

*  12  * 
LITTLE   RAIN-DROPS. 

Where  do  you  come  from, 
You  little  drops  of  rain. 

Pitter-patter,  pitter-patter, 
Down  the  window-pane  ? 

They  won't  let  me  walk. 
And  they  won't  let  me  play, 

A.nd  they  won't  let  me  go 
Out  of  doors  at  all  to-day. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  11 

They  put  away  my  playthings, 

Because  I  broke  them  all ; 
And  then  they  locked  up  all  my  blocks, 

And  took  away  my  ball. 

Tell  me,  little  rain-drops, 

Is  that  the  way  you  play,  — 
Pitter-patter,  pitter-patter. 

All  the  rainy  day? 

They  say  Fm  very  naughty ; 

Now  I've  nothing  else  to  do 
Bu-t  sit  here  at  the  window ; 

I  should  like  to  play  with  you. 

The  little  rain-drops  cannot  speak  ; 

But  "pitter-patter  pat," 
Means,  "  We  can  play  on  this  side. 

Why  can't  you  play  on  that  f  " 

Aunt  Effie's  Rhymes. 

*  13  * 
THE  LITTLE  BOY   AND   THE   STARS. 

You  little  twinkling  stars  that  shine 

Above  my  head  so  high. 
If  I  had  but  a  pair  of  wings, 

I'd  join  you  in  the  sky. 

If  I  were  with  you,  little  stars. 

How  merrily  we'd  roll 
Across  the  skies,  and  through  the  clouds, 

And  round  about  the  pole  !  ^ 

*  pole,  a  point  in  the  heavens  near  the  north  star. 


12  SIMPLE  POEMS 

The  moon  that  once  was  round  and  full 

Is  now  a  silver  boat : 
We'd  launch  it  off  the  bright-edged  cloud, 

And  then  —  how  we  should  float ! 

Does  anybody  say,  "  Be  still," 

When  you  would  dance  and  play  ? 

Does  anybody  hinder  you, 

When  you  would  have  your  way  ? 

Oh  tell  me,  little  stars  !  for  much 

I  wonder  why  you  go 
The  whole  night  long,  from  east  to  west. 

So  patiently  and  slow." 

"  We  have  a  Father,  little  child, 

Who  guides  us  on  our  way : 

We  never  question :  'when  he  speaks. 

We  listen,  and  obey." 

Aunt  Effie's  Rhymes. 

*  14  * 
BE  POLITE. 

Good  boys  and  girls  should  never  say, 
"  I  will,"  and  "  Give  me  these  :  " 

Oh,  no  I  that  never  is  the  way. 
But,  "  Mother,  if  you  please." 

And,  ''  If  you  please,"  to  sister  Ann, 

Good  boys  to  say  are  ready ; 
And,  "  Yes,  sir,"  to  a  gentleman ; 

And  ^'  Yes,  ma'am,"  to  a  lady. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  13 

Hearts,  like  doors,  can  ope  ^  with  ease 

To  very,  very  little  keys ; 
And  don't  forget  that  two  are  these  : 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,"  and,  "  If  you  please." 

*  15  * 

THE  GOLDEN   RULE. 

Deal  with  another  as  you'd  have 
Another  deal  with  you : 
What  you're  unwilling  to  receive, 
Be  sure  you  never  do. 

Be  you  to  others  kind  and  true, 
As  you'd  have  others  be  to  you ; 
And  neither  do  nor  say  to  men 
Whate'er  you  would  not  take  again. 

Isaac  Watts. 

*  16  * 

WHICH  LOVED  BEST? 

"  I  LOVE  you,  mother,"  said  little  John ; 
Then,  forgetting  his  work,  his  cap  went  on. 
And  he  was  off  to  the  garden  swing. 
And  left  her  the  water  and  wood  to  bring. 

"  I  love  you,  mother,"  said  rosy  Nell,  — 
*'  I  love  you  better  than  tongue  can  tell ;  "  . 
Then  she  teased  and  pouted  full  half  the  day. 
Till  her  mother  rejoiced^  when  she  went  to  play. 

^  ope,  open.  2  rejoiced,  was  glad. 


14  SIMPLE  POEMS 

"  I  love  you,  mother,"  said  little  Fan  ; 
"  To-day  I'll  help  you  all  I  can : 
How  glad  I  am  school  doesn't  ^  keep  I  " 
So  she  rocked  the  babe  till  it  fell  asleep. 

Then  stepping  softly  she  fetched  the  broom, 
And  swept  the  floor,  and  tidied-  the  room: 
Busy  and  happy  all  day  was  she,  — 
Helpful  and  happy  as  child  could  be. 

"  I  love  you,  mother,"  again  they  said, 
Three  little  children  going  to  bed  : 
How  do  you  think  that  mother  guessed 
Which  of  them  really  loved  her  best  ? 

Joy  Allison. 

*  17  * 

IS   IT   YOU? 

There  is  a  child,  a  boy  or  girl,  — 

I'm  sorry  it  is  true,  — 
Who  doesn't  ^  mind  when  spoken  to : 

Is  it  ?  —  it  isn't  you ! 

Oh,  no,  it  can't  be  you ! 

I  know  a  child,  a  boy  or  girl,  — 

I'm  loath  ^  to  say  I  do, — 
Who  struck  a  little  playmate  child : 

Was  it  ?  —  it  wasn't  you  ! 

I  hope  that  wasn't  you  ! 

*  doesn't  (pronounced  '  diiznt')-         ^  tidied,  put  it  in  good  order. 
8  loath,  unwilling. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  15 

I  know  a  child,  a  boy  or  girl,  — 

I  hope  that  such  are  few,  — 
Who  told  a  lie ;  yes,  told  a  lie  ! 

Was  it  ?  —  it  wasn't  you  ! 

It  cannot  be  'twas  you ! 

There  is  a  boy,  —  I  know  a  boy,  — 

I  cannot  love  him,  though, — 
Who  robs  the  little  birdies'  nests ; 

Is  it  ?  —  it  can't  be  you ! 

That  bad  boy  can't  be  you  I 

A  girl  there  is,  —  a  girl  I  know,  — 

And  I  could  love  her  too. 
But  that  she  is  so  proud  and  vain : 

Is  it  ?  —  it  can't  be  you  ! 

That  surely  isn't  you  ! 

Mks.  Goodwin". 

*  18  * 
DON'T   ROB   THE  BIRDS,   BOYS. 

Don't  rob  the  birds  of  their  eggs,  boys, 
It  is  cruel  and  heartless  and  wrong ; 

But  remember,  by  breaking  an  egg^  boys, 
We  may  lose  a  bird  with  a  song. 

When  careworn,  and  weary,  and  lonely. 
Some  day  as  you're  passing  along. 

You'll  rejoice  that  the  egg  wasn't  broken 
That  gave  you  the  bird  with  its  song. 


16  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  19  * 

THE   ROBIN-REDBREASTS. 

Two  Robin-redbreasts  built  their  nests 

Within  a  hollow  tree  ; 
The  hen  sat  quietly  at  home, 

The  cock  sang  merrily ; 
And  all  the  little  ones  said, 

"Wee,  wee,  wee,  wee,  wee  wee !  " 

One  day,  —  the  sun  was  warm  and  bright, 

And  shining  in  the  sky,  — 
Cock  Robin  said,  "  My  little  dears, 

'Tis  time  you  learned  to  fly ; " 
And  all  the  little  ones  said, 

"Flltry,  I'll  try,  I'll  try." 

I  know  a  child,  —  and  who  she  is 

I'll  tell  you  by  and  by,  — 
When  mamma  says,  "  Do  this,"  or  "  that," 

She  says,  "What  for?"  and  "Why?" 
She'd  be  a  better  child  by  far 

If  she  would  say,  "  I'll  try." 

Aunt  Effie's  Rhymes. 

*  20  * 

THE   OLD   KITCHEN   CLOCK. 

Listen  to  the  kitchen  clock ! 
To  itself  it  seems  to  talk ; 
From  its  place  it  cannot  walk  : 

"  Tick-tock  tick-tock," 
This  is  what  it  says. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  17 

"  I'm  a  very  patient  clock ; 
Never  moved  by  hope  or  fear, 
Though  I've  stood  for  many  a  year ; 

'  Tick-tock  tick-tock ; '  " 
This  is  what  it  says. 

"  I'm  a  very  active  clock, 
For  I  go  while  you're  asleep. 
Though  you  never  take  a  peep ; 

'  Tick-tock  tick-tock ; '  " 
This  is  what  it  says. 

"  I'm  a  very  truthful  clock ; 
People  say  about  the  place, 
Truth  is  written  on  my  face ; 

'  Tick-tock  tick-tock : '  " 
This  is  what  it  says. 

What  a  talkative  old  clock  ! 
Let  us  see  what  it  will  do 
When  the  pointer  reaches  two ; 

"  Ding  ding  !  —  tick-tock :  " 
This  is  what  it  does. 

*  21  * 

THREE   LITTLE   CHICKS. 

Three  little  chicks  so  downy  and  neat 
Went  out  in  search  of  something  to  eat  : 

"  Ter-wit,  ter-weet ! 

Something  to  eat !  " 
And  soon  they  picked  up  a  straw  of  wheat. 


18  SIMPLE  POEMS 

Said  one  little  chick,  "  That  belongs  to  me  !  " 
Said  one  other  little  chick,  "  We'll  see,  we'll  see  I ' 

"  Ter-wit,  ter-weet ! 

It  is  nice  and  sweet," 
Said  number  three  ;  "  let  us  share  the  treat !  " 

They  pulled  and  they  tugged,  the  downy  things, 
And  oh,  how  they  flapped  their  baby  wings ! 

"  Ter-wit,  ter-weet ! 

Something  to  eat ! 
Just  please  to  let  go  of  this  bit  of  wheat ! " 

Fiercer  and  fiercer  the  battle  grew, 
Until  the  straw  broke  right  in  two. 

And  the  little  chicks 

Were  in  a  fix, 
And  sorry  enough  for  their  naughty  tricks : 

For  a  saucy  crow  has  watched  the  fight, 

And  laughs,  "  Haw,  haw  !  it  serves  you  right !  " 

So  he  snatches  the  prize 

From  before  their  eyes. 
And  over  the  hills  and  away  he  flies  ! 

*  22  * 
THE   MOTHER-BIRD. 

"  Peep,  peep,  peep  !  7  says  she ; 
**One,  two,  three,  —  one,  two,  three, 
Little  birds  who  wait  for  me. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  19 

"  One  is  yellow,  two  are  brown ; 
And  their  throats  are  soft  with  down : 
On*  each  head  a  scarlet  crown. 

"  Mother-bird  is  flying  fast ; 
Soon  your  hunger  will  be  past ; 
Here  is  mother  come  at  last." 

"  Peep,  peep,  peep  !  "  says  she ; 
"  Oh  !  can  it  be  ?  oh !  can  it  be  ? 
No  little  ones  here  for  me !  " 

In  vain  her  cry,  in  vain  her  quest : 

A  thoughtless  boy  had  robbed  her  nest ; 

She  looks  around  with  aching  breast. 

Fannie  Benedict 

(In  "  The  Nursery  "). 

*  23  * 

IF   EVER  I   SEE  — 

If  ever  I  see 

On  bush  or  tree 
Young  birds  in  their  pretty  nest, 

I  must  not  in  play 

Steal  the  birds  away, 
To  grieve  their  mother's  breast. 

My  mother,  I  know. 

Would  sorrow  so. 
Should  I  be  stolen  away : 

So  I'll  speak  to  the  birds 

In  my  softest  words. 
Nor-  hurt  them  in  my  play. 


20  SIMPLE  POEMS 

And  when  they  can  fly- 
In  the  bright  blue  sky, 

They'll  warble  a  song  to  me ; 
And  then,  if  I'm  sad. 
It  will  make  me  glad 

To  think  they  are  happy  and  free. 

*  24  * 
KINDNESS   TO   ANIMALS. 

I  WOULD  not  hurt  a  living  thing. 

However  weak  and  small ; 
The  beasts  that  graze,^  the  birds  that  sing,  — 

Our  Father  made  them  all : 
Without  his  notice,  I  have  read, 

A  sparrow  cannot  fall. 

*  25  * 
THE   SNAIL. 

The  Snail  he  lives  in  his  hard  round  house, 

In  the  orchard,  under  the  tree : 
Says  he,  "  I  have  but  a  single  room ; 

But  it's  large  enough  for  me." 

The  Snail  in  his  little  house  doth  dwell 

From  week's  end  to  week's  end  ; 
You're  at  home,  Master  Snail ;  that's  all  very  well, 

But  you  never  receive  a  friend. 

1  graze,  eat  grass. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  21 

*  26  * 
LITTLE   STAR. 

TwiKKLE,  twinkle,  little  star ! 
How  I  wonder  what  you  are, 
Up  above  the  world  so  high. 
Like  a  diamond  in  the  sky ! 

When  the  glorious  sun  is  set, 
When  the  grass  with  dew  is  wet, 
Then  you  show  your  little  light. 
Twinkle,  twinkle,  all  the  night. 

In  the  dark  blue  sky  you  keep, 
And  often  through  my  curtains  peep  ; 
For  you  never  shut  your  eye 
Till  the  sun  is  in  the  sky. 

As  your  bright  and  tiny  ^  spark 
Lights  the  traveller  in  the  dark, 
Though  I  know  not  what  you  are, 
Twinkle,  tv/inkle,  little  star ! 

*  27  * 

GOD   IS   GOOD   AND   KIND. 

How  very  kind  is  God  to  me ! 
Look  where  I  may,  his  gifts  I  see ; 
The  food  I  eat,  the  clothes  I  wear. 
Are  tokens  of  my  Maker's  care. 

1  ti'ny,  little.    , 


22  SIMPLE  POEMS 

He  guards  me  both  by  day  and  night ; 
It  is  his  sun  that  gives  me  light ; 
And,  while  in  sleep  my  rest  I  take, 
He  keeps  me  safe  until  I  wake. 

When  I  am  ill,  he  knows  my  pain, 
And  often  makes  me  well  again  : 
When  I  am  well,  he  keeps  me  so ; 
And  all  I  have  to  him  I  owe. 

He  gives  me  friends  and  teachers  kind, 
Who  seek  to  train  my  infant  mind 
His  holy  name  to  know  and  love. 
And  raise  my  thoughts  to  things  above. 

Lord,  let  thy  tender  love  to  me 

Draw  forth  my  heart  in  love  to  thee,  — 

Love  that  shall  lead  me  to  obey 

And  serve  and  praise  thee  day  by  day. 

J.  BUKTON. 

*  28  * 
GOD'S   CARE   OF   ANIMALS. 

Who  taught  the  bird  to  build  her  nest 
Of  wool  and  hay  and  moss  ? 

Who  taught  her  how  to  weave  it  best. 
And  lay  the  twigs  across  ? 

Who  taught  the  busy  bee  to  fly 
Among  the  sweetest  flowers. 

And  lay  her  store  of  honey  by 
To  eat  in  winter  hours  ? 


AA'D  EASY  RHYMES.  23 

Who  taught  the  little  ant  the  way 

Her  narrow  hole  to  bore, 
And  through  the  pleasant  summer  day 

To  gather  up  her  store  ? 

'Twas  God  who  taught  them  all  the  way, 

And  gave  their  little  skill ; 
He  teaches  children,  when  they  pray, 

To  do  his  holy  will. 

Jane  Taylor. 

*  29  * 

WHAT  A   CHILD   HAS. 

I  HAVE  two  eyes  so  bright  and  clear. 
And  they  see  things  afar  and  near,  — 
The  bird,  the  tree,  the  flower  so  small, 
And  the  blue  sky,  bent  over  all. 

Two  ears  have  I  upon  my  head, 
For  me  to  hear  what  may  be  said ; 
To  hear  my  mother's  words  so  mild,  — 
"Be  good  and  gentle,  my  dear  child!" 

I  have  one  mouth,  as  all  may  see ; 
But  well  its  use  is  known  to  me ; 
For  I  can  talk  with  it  all  day, 
And  all  that  I  may  think  can  say. 

I  have  two  hands  so  soft  and  white,  — 
This  is  the  left,  and  this  the  right, — 
Five  little  fingers  stand  on  each. 
With  which  to  hold,  to  feel,  and  reach ; 


24  SIMPLE  POEMS 

But,  when  I  grow  as  tall  as  you, 
A  deal  of  work  they  then  will  do. 

I  have  two  feet  at  my  command. 
With  which  to  walk,  or  run,  or  stand ; 
And  should  I  tumble  down  —  why,  then 
I  must  with  speed  jump  up  again. 
But,  when  I  grow  both  large  and  strong, 
I  shall  quite  boldly  march  along. 

*  30  * 
HOURS   SPENT  ARIGHT. 

The  morning  hours  of  cheerful  light, 

Of  all  the  day,  are  best ; 
But,  as  they  speed  their  hasty  flight, 
If  every  hour  is  spent  aright. 
We  sweetly  sink  to  sleep  at  night, 

And  pleasant  is  our  rest. 

And  life  is  like  a  summer  day, 

It  seems  so  quickly  past : 
Youth  is  the  morning  bright  and  gay ; 
And,  if  'tis  spent  in  wisdom's  way. 
We  meet  old  age  without  dismay, 

And  death  is  sweet  at  last. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  25 

*  31  * 

THE  DARLING  LITTLE   GIRL. 

Who's  the  darling  little  girl 

Everybody  loves  to  see  ? 
She  it  is  whose  sunny  face 

Is  as  sweet  as  sweet  can  be. 

Who's  the  darling  little  girl 

Everybody  loves  to  hear  ? 
She  it  is  whose  pleasant  voice 

Falls  like  music  on  the  ear. 

Who's  the  darling  little  girl 

Everybody  loves  to  know  ? 
She  it  is  whose  acts  and  thoughts 

All  are  pure  as  whitest  snow. 

*  32  * 

LITTLE   WHITE   LILY. 

Little  white  Lily 

Sat  by  a  stone, 
Drooping  and  waiting 

Till  the  sun  shone. 
Little  white  Lily 

Sunshine  has  fed ; 
Little  white  Lily 

Is  lifting  her  head. 


26  SIMPLE  POEMS 

Little  white  Lily 

Said,  "  It  is  good, 
Little  white  Lily's 

Clothing  and  food."  * 
Little  white  Lily, 

Dressed  like  a  bride, 
Shining  with  whiteness, 

And  crowned  beside ! 

Little  white  Lily 

Droopeth  with  pain. 
Waiting  and  waiting 

For  the  soft  rain. 
Little  white  Lily 

Holdeth  her  cup ; 
Kain  is  fast  falling,  ■ 

And  filling  it  up. 

Little  white  Lily 

Said,  "  Good  again. 
When  I  am  thirsty 

To  have  nice  rain ; 
Now  I  am  stronger. 

Now  I  am  cool ; 
Heat  cannot  burn  me. 

My  veins  are  so  full." 

Little  white  Lily 
Smells  very  sweet ; 

On  her  head  sunshine. 
Rain  at  her  feet. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  29 

*  35  * 
TWO   AND   ONE. 

Two  ears  and  only  one  mouth  have  you : 

The  reason,  I  think,  is  clear : 
It  teaches,  my  child,  that  it  will  not  do 

To  talk  about  all  you  hear. 

Two  eyes  and  only  one  mouth  have  you : 

The  reason  of  this  must  be, 
That  you  should  learn  that  it  will  not  do 

To  talk  about  all  you  see. 

Two  hands  and  only  one  mouth  have  you  ; 

And  it  is  worth  repeating,  — 
The  two  are  for  work  you  will  have  to  do, 

The  one  is  enough  for  eating. 

From  the  German. 

*  36  * 

LORD   AND   LADY   ROBIN. 

"Chirp!  chipper!  twitter!  trill!" 

All  on  the  morn  of  May 
Lord  and  Lady  Robin  were  out. 

So  brave  ^  in  their  scarlet  and  gray. 
Fain  to  spy  ^  what  spot  might  be  best 
For  building  their  palace  that  we  call  a  nest. 

"  Chirp  !  chipper  !  twitter !  trill !  " 

"  Here^  oh,  here  let  it  be  ! 
White  blossoms  and  red  fruit 

Will  come  to  the  cherry-tree." 

*  brave,  bold,  fearless ;  here,  showy,  beautiful. 

*  fain  to  spy,  glad  to  see  or  find. 


30  SIMPLE  POEMS 

"  There^  oh,  there^  in  yon  maple  high ! 
Near,  so  near,  to  the  bright  blue  sky ! " 

"Chirp!- chipper!  twitter!  trill!" 

Loud  and  fast  and  long ; 
Sweetest  wrangle  ever  heard, 

For  it  was  all  in  song. 
And  the  spot  Lord  and  Lady  Robin  liked  best. 
You  will  know  by  and  by,  when  you  see  the  nest. 

Emily  A.  Bkaddock. 

*  37  * 
thp:  mice. 

The  merry  mice  stay  in  their  holes, 

And  hide  themselves  by  day ; 
But,  when  the  house  is  still  at  night, 

The  rogues  come  out  to  play. 

^  They  climb  upon  the  pantry  shelf. 
And  taste  of  all  they  please ; 
They  drink  the  milk  that's  set  for  cream. 
And  nibble  bread  and  cheese. 

But,  if  they  chance  to  hear  the  cat. 

Their  feast  will  soon  be  done  : 
They'll  scamper  off  to  hide  themselves 

As  fast  as  they  can  run. 

Some  tiny  mice  live  in  the  fields, 

And  feed  on  Hies  and  corn  ;  ^ 
And  in  a  pretty  liaiiL^'iiig-nest 

The  little  ones  are  born. 

*  com,  hfvp  moans  "  <ri'ain<!  of  wlifat.  ryo,  hnrlcy,"  etc. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  31 

When  winter  comes,  they  burrow  holes, 

And  line  them  soft  with  hay ; 
And,  while  the  snow  is  on  the  ground, 

They  sleep  the  time  away. 

.  All  living  creatures  like  to  be 
As  free  as  you  and  I : 
They  love  the  fields,  the  woods,  and  hills, 
They  love  the  sweet  blue  sky. 

*  38  * 
WHAT   THE  WINDS   BRING. 

"  Which  is  the  wind  that  brings  the  cold  ?  " 
"  The  North  wind,  Freddy,  and  all  the  snow ; 

And  the  sheep  will  scamper  into  the  fold 
When  the  North  begins  to  blow." 

"  Which  is  the  wind  that  brings  the  heat  ?  " 
"  The  South  wind,  Katie  ;  and  corn  will  grow, 

And  peaches  redden,  for  you  to  eat. 
When  the  South  begins  to  blow." 

"  Which  is  the  wind  that  brings  the  rain  ?  " 
"  The  East  wind,  Arty  ;  and  farmers 'know 

That  cows  come  shivering  up  the  lane 
When  the  East  begins  to  blow." 

"Which  is  the  wind  that  brings  the  flowers?" 
"  The  West  wind,  Bessy  ;  and  soft  and  low 

The  birdies  sing  in  the  summer  hours 
When  the  West  begins  to  blow." 

Edmund  C.  Stedman. 


32  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  39  * 
CHOICE  STANZAS. 


Do  you  know  how  many  children 
Go  to  little  beds  at  night, 
Sleeping  there  so  warm  and  cosey  * 
Till  they  wake  with  morning  light  ? 
God  in  heaven  each  name  can  tell, 
Knows  them  all,  and  loves  them  well. 


Let  all  your  work  be  early  done : 

By  lazy  sloth  ^  no  prize  is  won. 

And  time  and  tide  will  wait  for  none. 


The  moments  fly,  a  minute's  gone ; 
The  minute's  fly,  an  hour  is  run ; 
The  day  is  fled,  the  night  is  here ; 
Thus  flies  a  week,  a  month,  a  year. 


Speak  the  truth,  and  speak  it  ever. 

Cost  it  what  it  will : 
He  who  hides  the  wrong  he  did 

Does  the  wrong  thing  still. 

1  cosey,  comfortable. 

•  sloth  (from  sloio,  and  pronounced  'elowth')>  laziness. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  33 


Kind  hearts  are  the  gardens, 
Kind  thoughts  are  the  roots, 
Kind  words  are  the  blossoms. 
Kind  deeds  are  the  fruits. 


I  WOULD  not  be  a  cruel  boy 
For  all  that  this  world  gives, 

I  would  not  take  a  single  joy 
From  any  thing  that  lives. 


Whatever  brawls  disturb  the  street. 
There  should  be  peace  at  home ; 

Where  sisters  dwell,  and  brothers  meet, 
Quarrels  should  never  come. 


Do  something  for  each  other, 
Though  small  the  help  may  be ; 

There's  comfort  oft  in  little  things. 
Far  more  than  others  see. 


When  Work  comes  into  a  house  to  stay, 
Then  Want  will  speedily  flee  away ; 
But  let  Master  Work  once  go  to  sleep. 
And  Want  will  in  at  the  window  peep. 


34  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  40  * 

THE   SHOWER. 

Hear  the  rain,  patter,  patter, 
Beat  the  pane,  clatter,  clatter  I 
Down  it  pours,  helter,  pelter ; 
Quick  indoors !  shelter,  shelter ! 
See  it  rush,  and  roar  and  whirl, 
Fight  and  push,  eddy  and  swirl,^ 
Through  the  street,  down  the  gutters  I 
Hear  it  beat  'gainst  the  shutters 
In  its  grief  and  wild  despair ! 
But  'tis  brief,  and  we  don't  care : 
We  don't  care,  for,  peeping  through, 
We  see  there  two  bits  of  blue ; 
And  the  sun,  in  spite  of  rain, 
Has  begun  to  smile  again. 

*  41  * 

THE  WAVES   ON  THE  SEA-SHORE. 

Roll  on,  roll  on,  you  restless  waves 
That  toss  about  and  roar: 

Why  do  5^ou  all  run  back  again 

When  you  have  reached  the  shore  ? 

Roll  on,  roll  on,  you  noisy  waves ; 

Roll  higher  up  the  strand :  ^ 
How  is  it  that  you  cannot  pass 

That  line  of  yellow  sand  ? 

1  awirl,  whirl.  2  strand,  beach,  shore. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  '   35 

Make  haste,  or  else  the  tide  will  turn ; 

Make  haste,  you  noisy  sea ! 
Roll  quite  across  the  bank,  and  then 

Far  on  across  the  lea.^ 

"  We  must  not  dare,"  the  waves  reply : 

"  That  line  of  yellow  sand 
Is  laid  along  the  shore  to  bound 

The  waters  and  the  land : 

"  And  all  should  keep  to  time  and  place, 
And  all  should  keep  to  rule,  — 

Both  waves  upon  the  sandy  shore, 
And  little  boys  at  school." 

Aunt  Effie's  Rhymes. 

*  42  * 
AN  OLD   GAELIC   CRADLE-SONG. 

Hush  !  the  waves  are  rolling  in, 
White  with  foam,  white  with  foam : 

Father  toils  amid  the  din ; 
But  baby  sleeps  at  home. 

Hush !  the  winds  roar  hoarse  and  deep. 

On  they  come,  on  they  come  ! 
Brother  seeks  the  lazy  sheep, 

But  baby  sleeps  at  home. 

Hush  !  the  rain  sweeps  o'er  the  knowes,^ 
Where  they  roam,  where  they  roam  : 

Sister  goes  to  seek  the  cows ; 
But  baby  sleeps  at, home. 

1  lea,  grass-land. 

2  knoices   (pronounced  to  rliymc  with  'eov.s'),  kii;  lis,  low  hills. 


B6  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  43  * 
WHAT  DOES   LITTLE   BIRDIE   SAY? 

What  does  little  birdie  say 
In  her  nest  at  peep  of  day  ? 
"  Let  me  fly,"  says  little  birdie  ; 
"  Mother,  let  me  fly  away." 
Birdie,  rest  a  little  longer. 
Till  thy  little  wings  are  stronger. 
So  she  rests  a  little  longer, 
Then  she  flies  away. 

What  does  little  baby  say 
In  her  bed  at  peep  of  day  ? 
Baby  says,  like  little  birdie, 
"  Let  me  rise,  and  fly  away." 
Baby,  sleep  a  little  longer, 
Till  thy  little  limbs  are  stronger. 
If  she  sleeps  a  little  longer, 
Baby  too  shall  fly  away. 

Alfred  Tennyson. 


*  44  * 
THE   HOLIDAY. 

Come  out,  come  out,  for  merry  play : 
This  is  the  pleasant  month  of  June, 
And  we  will  go  this  afternoon 

Over  the  hills  and  far  away. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  37 

Hurrah !  we'll  have  a  holiday  ;  ;' 

And  through  the  wood,  and  up  the  glade,^ 
We'll  go,  in  sunshine  and  in  shade, 

Over  the  hills  and  far  away. 

The  wild  rose  blooms  upon  the  spray ;  ^ 

In  all  the  sky  is  not  a  cloud ; 

And  merry  birds  are  singing  loud, 
Over  the  hills  and  far  away. 

Not  one  of  us  behind  must  stay ; 
But  little  ones  and  all  shall  go. 
Where  summer  breezes  gently  blow, 

Over  the  hills  and  far  away. 

Mbs.  Hawtbey. 

*  45  * 
SNOW. 

Snow,  snow,  everywhere !  — 
On  the  ground  and  in  the  air. 
In  the  fields  and  in  the  lane, 
On  the  roof  and  window-pane. 

Snow,  snow,  everywhere ! 
Making  common  things  look  fair,  — 
Stones  beside  the  garden  walks. 
Broken  sticks,  and  cabbage  stalks. 

Snow,  snow,  everywhere ! 
Dressing  up  the  trees  so  bare, 

»  glade,  an  open  place  in  a  wood.       2  gpray,  a  sprig,  or  small  branch. 


38  SIMPLE  POEMS 

•     'fflesting  on  each  fir-tree  bough, 
Till  it  bends,  a  plume  of  snow. 

Snow,  snow,  everywhere ! 
Covering  up  young  roots  with  care, 
Keeping  them  so  safe  and  warm,  - 
Jack  Frost  cannot  do  them  harm. 

Snow,  snow,  everywhere ! 
We  are  glad  to  see  it  here : 
Snowball  making  will  be  fun 
When  to-morrow's  work  is  done. 

*  46  * 
THE   HOLIDAYS. 

Farewell  to  study  and  to  books  ; 

How  fast  the  time  is  winging  ! 
We  soon  shall  to  the  woods  away. 

And  with  the  birds  be  singing. 

We  hail  again  this  joyous  day, 
For  we  are  tired  and  weary ; 

The  schoolroom,  with  its  daily  toil, 
Is  getting  dull  and  dreary. 

We'll  roam  among  the  bright  green  fields, 
Where  woods  and  flowers  are  springing, 

And  where  the  sturdy  husbandman  ^ 
The  harvest  home  is  bringing. 

*  husbaridman,  farmer.    ' 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  39 

And  when  the  holidays  are  o'er 

We'll  have  a  joyous  meeting ; 
When  teachers,  schoolmates,  back  shall  come 

With  each  a  happy  greeting. 

*  47  * 
WISHING. 

Ring-ting  !     I  wish  I  were  a  Primrose, 

A  bright  yellow  Primrose  blowing  in  the  spring ! 

The  stooping  bough  above  me, 

The  wandering  bee  to  love  me. 
The  fern  and  moss  to  creep  across. 

And  the  Elm-tree  for  our  king ! 

Nay,  —  stay  !     I  wish  I  were  an  Elm-tree, 

A  great  lofty  Elm-tree,  with  green  leaves  gay ! 

The  winds  would  set  them  dancing. 

The  sun  and  moonshine  glance  in. 
And  birds  would  house  ^  among  the  boughs, 

And  sweetly  sing. 

Oh,  no  !     I  wish  I  were  a  Robin,  — 

A  Robin,  or  a  little  Wren,  everywhere  to  go, 

Through  forest,  field,  or  garden. 

And  ask  no  leave  or  pardon. 
Till  winter  comes  with  icy  thumbs 

To  ruffle  up  our  wing ! 

Well,  —  tell  I  where  should  I  fly  to, 
Where  go  sleep  in  the  dark  wood  or  dell  ? 

1  house,  make  their  nests. 


40  SIMPLE  POEMS 

Before  the  day  was  over, 
Home  must  come  the  rover, 
For  mother's  kiss,  —  sweeter  this 
Than  any  other  thing. 

"William  Ax,lingham. 

*  48  * 

THANKSGIVING  -DAY. 

OvEE  the  river,  and  through  the  wood, 
To  grandfather's  house  we  go ; 

The  horse  knows  the  way 

To  carry  the  sleigh 
Through  the  white  and  drifted  snow. 

Over  the  river,  and  through  the  wood ; 
Oh,  how  the  wind  does  blow ! 

It  stings  the  toes. 

And  bites  the  nose. 
As  over  the  ground  we  go. 

Over  the  river,  and  through  the  wood. 
And  straight  through  the  barnyard  gate ; 
We  seem  to  go 
.  ^        Extremely  slow; 
It  is  so  hard  to  wait ! 

Over  the  river,  and  through  the  wood ; 
Now  grandmother's  cap  I  spy ! 
Hurrah  for  the  fun  ! 
Is  the  pudding  done  ? 
Hurrah  for  the  pumpkin-pie  ! 

Lydia  Makia  Child. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  41 

*  49  * 
THE  BUSY  BEE. 

How  doth  the  little  busy  bee 

Improve  each  shining  hour, 
And  gather  honey  all  the  day 

From  every  opening  flower ! 

How  skilfully  she  builds  her  cell ! 

How  neat  she  spreads  the  wax ! 
And  labors  hard  to  store  it  well 

With  the  sweet  food  she  makes. 

In  works  of  labor  or  of  skill 

I  would  be  busy  too  ; 
For  Satan  finds  some  mischief  still 

For  idle  hands  to  do. 

In  books,  or  work,  or  healthful  play, 
Let  my  first  years  be  passed. 

That  I  may  give  for  every  day 
Some  good  account  at  last. 

Isaac  Watts. 

*  60  * 

THE  BEE.  ^^      "  ' 

I  LOVE  to  see 

The  busy  bee  ; 
I  love  to  watch  the  hive ; 

When  the  sun's  hot. 

They  linger  not : 
It  makes  them  all  alive. 


42         .  SIMPLE  POEMS 

God  gave  them  skill, 
And  with  good  will 

They  to  their  work  attend : 
Each  little  cell 
Is  shaped  so  well, 

That  none  their  work  can  mend. 

Now  in,  now  out, 
They  move  about. 

Yet  all  in  order  true  : 
Each  seems  to  know 
Both  where  to  go 

And  what  it  has  to  do. 

Midst  summer  heat. 

The  honey  sweet 
It  gathers  while  it  may, 

In  tiny  drops, 

And  never  stops 
To  waste  its  time  in  play. 

I  hear  it  come ; 

I  know  its  hum : 
It  flies  from  flower  to  flower. 

And  to  its  store 

A  little  more 
It  adds  each  day  and  hour. 

Just  so  should  I 

My  heart  apply 

My  proper  work  to  mind ; 


AND  EASY  RHYMES,  43 

Look  for  some  sweet 
In  all  I  meet, 
And  store  up  all  I  find. 

*  51  * 
THE   MAIDEN  AND   THE  BIRD. 

"  Little  bird,  little  bird,  come  to  me ! 
I  have  a  green  cage  all  ready  for  thee  ; 
Beauty-bright  flowers  I'll  bring  anew, 
And  fresh  ripe  cherries  all  wet  with  dew." 

"  Thanks,  little  maiden,  for  all  thy  care  ; 
But  I  dearly  love  the  clear,  cool  air. 
And  my  snug  little  nest  in  the  old  oak-tree." 
"  Little  bird,  little  bird,  stay  with  me  !  " 

"  Nay,  little  damsel,^  away  I'll  fly 
To  greener  fields  and  a  warmer  sky  : 
When  spring  returns  with  pattering  rain, 
You'll  hear  my  merry  song  again." 

"  Little  bird,  little  bird,  who'll  guide  thee 
Over  the  hills  and  over  the  sea  ? 
Foolish  one,  come,  in  the  house  to  stay ; 
For  I'm  very  sure  you'll  lose  your  way." 

"  Ah,  no,  little  maiden  !  God  guides  me 
Over  the  hills  and  over  the  sea : 
I  will  be  free  as  the  rushing  air. 
And  sing  of  sunshine  everywhere." 

Lydia  Makia  Child. 
1  damsel,  gii"l,  maiden. 


44  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  52  * 
THE  BOY  AND   THE   SHEEP. 

"  Lazy  sheep,  pray  tell  me  why 
In  the  pleasant  field  you  lie, 
Eating  grass  and  daisies  white, 
From  the  morning  till  the  night : 
Every  thing  can  something  do ; 
But  what  kind  of  use  are  you  ?  " 

"  Nay,  my  little  master,  nay, 
Do  not  serve  me  so,  I  pray  ! 
Don't  you  see  the  wool  that  grows 
On  my  back  to  make  your  clothes  ? 
Cold,  ah,  very  cold  you'd  be, 
If  you  had  not  wool  from  me. 

"  True,  it  seems  a  pleasant  thing 
Nipping  daisies  in  the  spring  ; 
But  what  chilly  nights  I  pass 
On  the  cold  and  dewy  grass. 
Or  pick  my  scanty  dinner  where 
All  the  ground  is  brown  and  bare ! 

"  Then  the  farmer  comes  at  last, 
When  the  merry  spring  is  past, 
Cuts  my  woolly  fleece  away, 
For  your  coat  in  wintry  day. 
Little  master,  this  is  why 
In  the  pleasant  fields  I  lie." 

Ann  Taylor. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  45 

»  53  * 
STARS. 

How  pretty  is  each  little  star, 

Each  tiny  twinkler,  soft  and  meek  ! 

Yet  many  in  this  world  there  are 

Who  do  not  know  that  stars  can  speak. 

To  them  the  skies  are  meaningless, 

A  star  is  not  a  living  thing ; " 
They  cannot  hear  the  messages 

Those  shining  creatures  love  to  bring. 

Hush  !  listen  !  ah,  it  will  not  do  ; 

You  do  but  listen  with  your  ears ; 
And  stars  are  understood  by  few, 

For  it  must  be  the  heart  that  hears. 

Look  up,  not  only  wj^th  your  eyes  ; 

Ah !  do  you  hear  a  tender  sound  ? 
To  hearts  familiar  with  the  skies. 

The  stars  are  nearer  than  the  ground. 

Poems  for  a  Child. 

*  54  * 

PERSEVERE. 

The  fisher  who  draws  in  his  net  too  soon 

Won't  have  any  fish  to  sell : 
The  child  who  shuts  up  its  book  too  soon 

Won't  learn  any  lessons  well. 

1  sluggard,  lazy  person. 


46  SIMPLE  POEMS 

For  if  you  would  have  your  learning  stay 
Be  patient,  don't  learn  too  fast : 

The  man  who  travels  a  mile  each  day 
Will  get  round  the  world  at  last. 

H.  W.  DuLCKEN.  —  From  the  German. 

*  55  * 

THE  POND  AND  THE  BROOK. 

"  Neighbor  Brook,"  said  the  Pond  one  day, 
"  Why  do  you  flow  so  fast  away  ? 
Sultry  June  is  hastening  on. 
And  then  your  water  will  all  be  gone." 

"  Nay,  my  friend,"  the  Brook  replied, 
"  Do  not  thus  my  conduct  chide : 
Shall  I  rather  hoard  ^  than  give  ? 
Better  die  than  useless  live." 

Summer  came,  and  blazing  June 
Dried  the  selfish  Pond  full  soon ; 
Not  a  single  trace  was  seen 
Where  it  had  so  lately  been. 

But  the  Brook  with  vigor  flowed 
Swift  along  its  pebbly  road ; 
And  the  fragrant  flowers  around 
Loved  to  hear  its  happy  sound. 

'.*  hoard,  store  up  secretly. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  49 

Who  made  the  moon  and  stars  so  high, 

The  darksome  ^  night  to  cheer, 
That  shine  so  bright  in  yonder  sky. 

Oft  as  the  heavens  are  clear  ? 

Who  made  the  rocks,  the  hills,  the  trees. 

The  mountains,  and  the  vales  ? 
The  flocks,  the  herds,  the  cooling  breeze, 

The  stream  that  never  fails  ? 

'Twas  God  who  made  this  world  so  fair, 
The  shining  sun,  the  sky,  the  air ; 

'Twas  God  who  made  the  sea,  the  ground, 
And  all  the  things  I  see  around. 


*  58  * 
THE  LAMB. 

Little  Lamb,  who  made  thee  ? 
Dost  thou  know  who  made  thee  ? 
Gave  thee  life,  and  bade  thee  feed 
By  the  stream  and  o'er  the  mead  ?  ^ 
Gave  thee  clothing  of  delight,  — 
Softest  clothing,  woolly,  bright? 
Gave  thee  such  a  tender  voice. 
Making  all  the  vales  rejoice  ? 

Little  Lamb,  who  made  thee  ? 

Dost  thou  know  who  made  thee  ? 

*  darksome,  dark,  gloomy  2  mead,  meadow,  grass-land. 


50  SIMPLE  POEMS 

Little  Lamb,  I'll  tell  thee ; 
Little  Lamb,  I'll  tell  thee. 
He  is  called  by  thy  name, 
For  He  calls  Himself  a  Lamb  :  — 
He  is  meek,  and  He  is  mild ; 
He  became  a  little  child  : 
I,  a  child,  and  thou,  a  lamb, 
We  are  called  by  His  name. 

Little  Lamb,  God  bless  thee  ! 

Little  Lamb,  God  bless  thee  I 

W.  Blake. 

*  59  * 
TO  A  REDBREAST. 

•    Little  bird,  with  bosom  red. 
Welcome  to  my  humble  shed ; 
Daily  near  my  table  steal,^ 
While  I  pick  my  scanty  meal  ; 
Doubt  not,  little  though  there  be, 
But  I'll  cast  a  crumb  to  thee,  * 
Well  rewarded  if  I  spy 
Pleasure  in  thy  glancing  eye ; 
See  thee,  when  thou'st  ^  eat  thy  fill, 
Plume  ^  thy  breast,  and  wipe  thy  bill. 
Come,  my  feathered  friend,  again  ! 
Well  thou  know'st  the  broken  pane  :  — 
Ask  of  me  thy  daily  store, 
EJver  welcome  to  my  door. 

J.  Langhorne. 

1  uteal,  come  quietly. 

*  thou^st,  thou  hast. 

8  plume,  to  pick  and  adjust  the  feathers. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  53 

The  skies  are  dimming ;  the  birds  fly  low, 
Skimming  and  swimming,  their  wings  are  slow ; 
They  float,  they  are  carried,  they  scarcely  go. 

The  dead  leaves  hurry ;  the  waters,  too, 

Flurry  iand  scurry,  as  if  they  knew 

A  storm  was  at  hand ;  the  smoke  is  blue. 

LiLLiPUT  Levee. 

*  64  * 

THE   WATCH-DOG. 

"  Bow,  wow,  wow !  " 
'Tis  the  great  watch-dog, 

I  know  by  his  honest  bark  : 
"  Bow,  wow,  wow ! " 
Says  the  great  watch-dog 

When  he  hears  a  foot  in  the  dark. 

Not  a  breath  can  stir 
But  he's  up  with  a  whir,^ 

And  a  big  bow-wow  gives  he ; 
And,  with  tail  on  end. 
He'll  the  house  defend 

Far  better  than  lock  or  key. 

When  we  sleep  sound. 
He  takes  his  round, 
A  sentry  ^  o'er  us  all : 

1  whir,  whirl,  a  turnir.s:  about  quickly. 

2  sentry,  soldier  on  guard. 


54  SIMPLE  POEMS 

Through  the  long  dark  night, 
Till  broad  daylight, 

He  scares  the  thieves  from  the  wall. 

But  through  the  whole  day 
With  the  children  he'll  play, 

And  gambol  ^  in  the  sun ; 
On  his  back  astride 
They  may  safely  ride. 

For  well  he  loves  their  fun. 

By  all  he's  known 

To  be  true  to  the  bone ;  ^ 

No  flattering  tongue  has  he ; 
And  we  may  all  learn  • 

From  the  great  watch-dog 

Both  faithful  and  fond  to  be. 

A.  Smart. 

*  65  * 
THE  CLUCKING  HEN. 

"  Will  you  take  a  walk  with  me, 

My  little  wife,  to-day  ? 
There's  barley  in  the  barley  field, 

And  hay-seed  in  the  hay." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  !  "  said  the  clucking  hen ; 

"  I've  something  else  to  do  ; 
I'm  busy  sitting  on  my  eggs ; 

I  cannot  walk  with  you." 

*  gambol,  frisk,  sport. 

»  thoroughly  fuithiul,  — to  the  backbone,  as  it  were. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  55 

"  Cluck,' cluck,  cluck,  cluck!" 

Said  the  clucking  hen ; 
"  My  little  chicks  will  soon  be  hatched ; 

I'll  think  about  it  then." 

The  clucking  hen  sat  on  her  nest,  — 

She  made  it  in  the  hay,  — 
And  warm  and  snug  beneath  her  breast 

A  dozen  white  eggs  lay. 

"  Crack,  crack  !  "  went  all  the  eggs ; 

Out  dropped  the  chickens  small. 
"  Cluck  !  "  said  the  clucking  hen ; 

"  Now  I  have  you  all. 

"  Come  along,  my  little  chicks,    " 

I'll  take  a  walk  with  you'^ 
"  Hollo  !  "  said  the  barn-door  cock  ; 

"  Cock-a-doodle-doo ! " 

Aunt  Effie's  Rhymes. 

*  QQ  * 
FREDDIE  AND  THE   CHERRY-TREE. 

Freddie  saw  some  fine  ripe  cherries 

Hanging  on  a  cherry-tree, 
And  he  said,  "  You  pretty  cherries, 

Will  you  not  come  down  to  me  ?  " 

"Thank  3^ou  kindly,"  said  a  Cherry; 

"  We  would  rather  stay  up  here : 
If  we  ventured  down  this  morning, 

You  would  eat  us  up,  I  fear." 


oG  SIMPLE  POEMS 

One  —  the  finest  of  the  cherries  — 

Dangled  from  a  slender  twig  : 
"  You  are  beautiful,"  said  Freddie ; 

"  Red  and  ripe,  and,  oh,  how  big !  " 

'* Catch  me,"  said  the  Cherry,  "catch  me, 

Little  master,  if  you  can !  " 
"  I  would  catch  you  soon,"  said  Freddie, 

"  If  I  were  a  grown-up  man." 

Freddie  jumped,  and  tried  to  reach  it, 

Standing  high  upon  his  toes ; 
But  the  Cherry  bobbed  about. 

And  laughed,  and  tickled  Freddie's  nose. 

"  Never  mind  !  "  said  little  Freddie, 
'-'- 1  shall  have  them  when  it's  right :  " 

But  a  Blackbird  whistled  boldly, 
"  I  shall  eat  them  all  to-night." 

Aunt  Effie's  Rhymes. 

*  37  * 

THE   ANT   AND   THE   CRICKET. 

A  SILLY  young  Cricket,  accustomed  to  sing 
Through  the  warm  sunny  months  of  the  summer 

and  spring. 
Began  to  complain  when  he  found  that  at  home 
His  cupboard  ^  was  empty,  and  winter  was  come. 
Not  a  crumb  to  be  found 
On  the  snow-covered  ground ; 

1  cupboard  (pronounced  'kubTburd'). 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  57 

Not  a  flower  could  he  see, 
Not  a  leaf  on  a  tree  : 
"Oh!  what  will  become,"  said  the   Cricket,   "of 
me?" 

At  last,  by  starvation  and  famine  made  bold. 
All  dripping  with  Wjet,  and  trembling  with  cold. 
Away  he  set  off  to  a  miserly  Ant, 
To  see  if,  to  keep  him  alive,  he  would  grant 

A  shelter  from  rain. 

And  a  mouthful  of  grain. 

He  wished  only  to  borrow, 

And  repay  it  to-morrow ; 
If  not,  he  must  die  of  starvation  and  sorrow. 

Said  the  Ant  to  the  Cricket,  "  I'm  your  servant  and 

friend ; 
But  we  ants  never  borrow,  we  ants  never  lend. 
But  tell  me,  dear  sir,  did  you  lay  nothing  by 
When  the  weather  was  warm  ?  "    Said  the  Cricket, 
"Not  I! 
My  heart  was  so  light 
That  I  sang  day  and  night. 
For  all  nature  looked  gay. " 
"  You  sang,  sir,  you  say? 
Go  then,"  said  the  Ant,  "  and  dance  winter  away." 
Thus  ending,  he  hastily  opened  the  wicket. 
And  out  of  the  door  turned  the  poor  little  Cricket. 

Though  this  is  a  fable,  the  moral  is  good : 
If  you  live  without  work,  you   will   go   without 
food. 


58  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  68  * 

THE   WASP  AND   THE  BEE. 

A  WASP  met  a  bee  that  was  just  buzzing  by, 
And  he  said,  "  Little  cousin,  can  you  tell  me  why 
You  are  loved  so  much  better  by  people  than  I  ? 

"  My  back  shines  as  bright  and  as  yellow  as  gold, 
And  my  shape  is  most  elegant,  too,  to  behold; 
Yet  nobody  likes  me  for  that,  I  am  told." 

"  Ah,  cousin !  "  said  the  bee,  "  'tis  all  very  true ; 
But  if  I  were  half  as  much  mischief  to  do. 
Indeed  they  would  love  me  no  better  than  you. 

"  You  have  a  fine  shape,  and  a  delicate  ^  wing ; 
They  own  you  are  handsome :  but  then  there's  one 

thing 
They  cannot  put  up  with  —  and  that  is  your  sting. 

"  My  coat  is  quite  homely  and  plain,  as  you  see, 
Yet  nobody  ever  is  angry  with  me. 
Because  I'm  a  harmless  and  diligent  bee." 

From  this  little  story,  let  people  beware ; 
Because,  like  the  wasp,  if  ill-natured  they  are, 
They  will  never  be  loved,  though  ever  so  fair. 

1  delicate,  slight  and  pretty. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  59 

*  69  * 

TELL  ME  WHAT   THE   MILL   DOTH   SAY. 

Tell  me  what  the  mill  cloth  say : 
"  Glitter,  clatter,"  night  and  day ; 
When  we  sleep,  and  when  we  wake, 
Glitter,  clatter,  it  doth  make  : 
Never  idle,  never  still. 
What  a  worker  is  the  mill ! 

Hearken  what  the  rill  doth  say 
As  it  journeys  every  day ; 
Sweet  as  skylark  on  the  wing, 
"  Ripple,  dipple,"  it  doth  sing : 
Never  idle,  never  still. 
What  a  worker  is  the  rill ! 

Listen  to  the  honey-bee 

As  he  dances  merrily 

To  the  little  fairy's  drum 

Humming,  drumming,  drumming,  drum : 

Never  idle,  never  still, 

Humming,  drumming,  hum  he  will. 

Like  the  mill,  the  rill,  the  bee, 

Idleness  is  not  for  me. 

What  says  Gock-a-doodle-doo  ? 

"  Up,  there's  work  enough  for  you." 

If  I  work,  then,  with  a  will, 

It  will  be  but  playing  still. 

E.  Capern. 


60  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  70  * 

THE  VOICE   OF   SPRING. 

I  AM  coming,  I  am  coming ! 
Hark !  the  little  bee  is  humming ; 
See,  the  lark  is  soaring  high 
In  the  blue  and  sunny  sky ; 
And  the  gnats  are  on  the  wing, 
Wheeling  round  in  airy  ring. 

See,  the  yellow  catkins^  cover 
All  the  slender  willows-  over  ! 
And  on  banks  of  mossy  green 
Star-like  primroses  are  seen ; 
And,  their  ^  clustering  leaves  below. 
White  and  purple  violets  blow. 

Hark!  the  new-born  lambs  are  bleating, 
And  the  cawing  rooks  ^  are  meeting 
In  the  elms,  —  a  noisy  crowd ; 
All  the  birds  are  singing  loud ; 
And  the  first  white  butterfly 
In  the  sunshine  dances  by. 

Look  around  thee,  look  around ! 
Flowers  in  all  the  fields  abound ; 
Every  running  stream  is  bright ; 
All  the  orchard  trees  are  white ; 

^  catkins,  blossoms, —  a  kind  of  flower,  long  and  slender,  resembling  a 
cat's  tail,  as  in  the  willows,  the  hazel,  etc. 

2  their,  that  is,  the  violets'  leaves.  3  rook,  a  bird  like  a  crow. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  61 

And  each  small  and  waving  shoot 
Promises  sweet  flowers  and  fruit. 

Turn  thine  eyes  to  earth  and  heaven : 
God  for  thee  the  spring  has  given, 
Taught  the  birds  their  melodies,^ 
Clothed  the  earth,  and  cleared  the  skies, 
For  thy  pleasure  or  thy  food : 
Pour  thy  soul  in  gratitude.^ 

"  Mary  Howitt. 

*  71  * 

MAY. 

Welcome,  welcome,  lovely  May ! 
Breath  so  sweet,  and  smiles  so  gay ; 
Sun,  and  dew,  and  gentle  showers, 
Welcome,  welcome,  month  of  flowers ! 

Welcome,  violets,  sweet  and  blue, 
Drinking-cups  of  morning  dew ! 
Welcome,  lambs,  so  full  of  glee  I 
Welcome,  too,  my  busy  bee  I 

Birdies  sing  on  every  spray. 
Welcome,  sunshine  !  welcome  May ! 
Many  a  pretty  flower  uncloses. 
And  the  garden  smells  of  roses. 

T.  D.  Miller. 

1  melodies^  songs.  2  \)q  very  thankful. 


62  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  72  * 

THE   SUMMER'S   DAY. 

Flowers  are  springing, 

Birds  are  singing, 
Bees  are  humming  all  around ; 

Joy  and  pleasure. 

Without  measure,  * 
Welcome  us  in  every  sound. 

In  the  meadows 

Lights  and  shadows 
Chase  each  other  far  away  ; 

Lambs  are  bleating. 

Swallows  fleeting : 
Happy  all  this  summer's  day. 

Matthias  Bare. 

*  73  * 
THE  LILY. 

Come,  my  Love,  and  do  not  spurn 
From  a  little  flower  to  learn. 
See  the  lily  on  the  bed 
Hanging  down  its  modest  head, 
While  it  scarcely  can  be  seen. 
Folded  on  its  leaf  of  green. 

Yet  we  love  the  lily  well 

For  its  sweet  and  pleasant  smell, 


AND  EASY  RHYMES,  63 

And  would  rather  call  it  ours 
Than  the  many  gayer  flowers: 
Pretty  lilies  seem  to  be 
Emblems  ^  of  humilty.^ 

Come,  my  Love,  and  do  not  spurn 
From  a  little  flower  to  learn : 
Let  your  temper  be  as  sweet 
As  the  lily  at  your  feet ; 
Be  as  gentle,  be  as  mild, 
Be  a  modest,  simple  child. 

'Tis  not  beauty  that  we  prize ; 
Like  a  summer  flower  it  dies  ; 
But  humility  will  last. 
Fair  and  sweet  when  beauty's  past ; 
And  the  Saviour  from  above 
Views  a  humble  child  with  love. 

Jane  Taylob. 


*  74  * 

THE   DAISY. 

I'm  a  pretty  little  thing, 
Always  coming  with  the  spring  ; 
In  the  meadows  green  I'm  found, 
Peeping  just  above  the  ground  ; 
And  my  stalk  is  covered  flat 
With  a  white  and  yellow  hat. 

1  emblem,  a  sign  or  symbol.  2  humility,  humbleness. 


64  SIMPLE  POEMS 

Little  lady,  when  you  pass 
Lightly  o'er  the  tender  grass, 
Skip  about,  but  do  not  tread 
On  my  meek  and  lowly  head ; 
For  I  always  seem  to  say, 
Surely  winter's  gone  away. 


*  75  * 

THE   FLY. 

What  a  sharp  little  fellow  is  Mr.  Fly ! 
He  goes  where  he  pleases,  low  or  high. 
And  Can  walk  just  as  well  with  his  feet  to  the  sky 
As  I  can  on  the  floor. 

At  the  window  he  comes 

With  a  buzz  and  a  roar. 

And  o'er  the  smooth  glass 

With  ease  he  can  pass, 
Or  through  the  keyhole  of  the  door. 
He  eats  the  sugar,  and  goes  away, 
Nor  ever  once  asks  how  much  is  to  pay ; 
And  sometimes  he  crosses  the  teapot's  steam. 
And  comes  and  plunges  his  head  in  the  cream. 

Then  on  the  edge  of  the  jug  he  stands, 

And  cleans  his  wings  with  his  feet  and  hands; 

This  done,  through  the  window  he  hurries  away. 

And  gives  a  buzz,  as  if  to  say, 

"  At  present  I  haven't  a  minute  to  stay ; 

But  I'll  peep  in  again  in  the  course  of  the  day." 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  G7 

Do  you  know  how  low  and  sweet, 
O'er  the  pebbles  at  their  feet, 
Are  the  words  the  waves  repeat 
Night  and  day  ? 

Have  you  heard  the  robins  singing, 

Little  one, 
When  the  rosy  dawn  is  breaking, — 

When  'tis  done  ? 
Have  you  heard  the  wooing  ^  breeze, 
In  the  Jblossomed  orchard  trees. 
And  the  drowsy  hum  of  bees 

In  the  sun  ? 

All  the  earth  is  full  of  music, 

Little  May,  — 
Bird  and  bee,  and  water  singing 

On  its  way. 
Let  their  silver  voices  fall 
On  thy  heart  with  happy  call : 
"  Praise  the  Lord,  who  loveth  all, 

Night  and  day." 

Emily  HuNTiNGTO^f  Millek. 


*  79  * 

MERRY  ARE   THE   BELLS. 

Merey  are  the  bells, 

•    And  merry  would  they  ring ; 

Merry  are  we  all, 

And  merry  will  we  sing : 

^  wooing,  gentle,  soothing. 


68  SIMPLE  POEMS 

With  a  merry  ding-dong, 
Happ}^,  gay,  and  free, 

And  a  merry  sing-song, 
Happy  let  us  be. 

Merry  have  we  met. 

And  merry  have  we  been ; 
Merry  let  us  part, 

And  merry  meet  again  : 
With  our  merry  sing-song, 

Happy,  gay,  and  free. 
And  a  merry  ding-dong, 

Happy  let  us  be. 

*  80  * 

THE  LITTLE  WORKER'S   SONG. 

Cold  the  winter  wind  is  blowing, 
And  it  never  ceases  snowing,  — 
Snowing,  blowing,  all  day  long ; 
Yet  I  sing  a  merry  song. 

I  like  to  see  the  bright  fire  burning ; 
I  like  to  know  my  bread  I'm  earning ; 
I  like  to  work,  and  then  to  play : 
I'm  happy,  happy,  all  the  day. 

Soon  will  come  the  spring's  soft  showers, 
And  after  that  the  summer  flowers ; 
This  makes  me  liappy  all  day  long ; 
This  makes  me  sing  a  merry  song. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES,  69 

*  81  * 

A   SWINGING  SONG. 

Merry  it  is  on  a  summer's  day 
All  through  the  meadows  to  wend  ^  away ; 
To  watch  the  brooks  glide  fast  or  slow, 
And  the  little  fish  twinkle  down  below ;  • 
To  hear  the  birds  in  the  blue  sky  sing : 
Oh !  sure  enough,  'tis  a  merry  thing  ; 
But  'tis  merrier  far  to  swing,  to  swing. 

Merry  it  is  on  a  winter's  night 

To  listen  to  tales  of  elf  and  sprite,^ 

Of  caves  and  castles  ^  so  dim  and  old,  — 

The  dismalest  tales  that  ever  were  told,  — 

And  then  to  laugh,  and  then  to  sing. 

You  may  take  my  word,  is  a  merry  thing ; 

But  'tis  merrier  far  to  swing,  to  swing. 

Down  with  the  hoop  upon  the  green ! 
Down  with  the  ringing  tambourine  I  * 
Little  heed  we  for  this  or  for  that ; 
Off  with  the  bonnet,  off  with  the  hat ! 
Away  we  go  like  birds  on  the  wing ; 
Higher  yet,  higher  yet,  now  for  the  King !  * 
This  is  the  way  we  swing,  we  swing. 

Scarcely  the  bough  bends,  Claude  is  so  light ; 
Mount  up  behind  him,  —  there,  that  is  right !  — 

1  wend,  go.  2  sprite,  a  spirit, 

s  castle,  a  strong  building  where  a  prince  or  a  nobleman  dwells. 
*  tambourine,  a  kind  of  shallow  drum  with  one  skin,  and  bells  fastened  to 
the  rim. 

fi  King,  the  highest  swing  of  all. 


70  SIMPLE  POEMS 

Down  bends  the  branch  now ;  swing  hini  away, 

Higher  yet,  higher  yet,  higher,  I  say ! 

Oh,  what  a  joy  it  is !     Now,  let  us  sing, 

"  A  pear  for  the  Queen,  an  apple  for  the  King," 

And  shake  the  old  tree  as  we  swing,  we  swing. 

*  82  * 

THE   FAIRY   QUEEN'S   SONG. 

Come  follow,  follow  me, 
Ye  fairy  elves  ^  that  be  ;  ^ 
Light  tripping  o'er  the  green, 
Come  follow  Mab,  your  Queen : 

Hand  in  hand  we'll  dance  around, 

For  this  place  is  fairy  ground. 

When  mortals  are  at  rest, 

And  snoring  in  their  nest. 

Unheard  and  unespied, 

Through  keyholes  we  do  glide ; 
Over  tables,  stools,  and  shelves. 
We  trip  it  with  our  fairy  elves. 

Upon  a  mushroom's  head 

Our  table-cloth  we  spread ; 

A  grain  of  rye  or  wheat 

The  viands  ^  that  we  eat ; 
Pearly  drops  of  dew  we  drink 
In  acorn  cups  filled  to  the  brink. 

1  fairy  elf  (plural,  elves),  an  imaarinary  or  '  make-believe '  little  being  for- 
merly believed  to  haunt  woods  and  wild  places. 

2  that  may  be  or  are.  »  viands,  food. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  lo 

And  stand  amid  the  drifted  snow, 

Like  thee,  a  thing  apart, 
Than  be  a  man  who  walks  with  men, 

But  has  a  frozen  heart. 

Annie  D.  Green. 

(Marian  Douglas.) 

*  86  * 
DEEDS   OF  KINDNESS. 

Suppose  the  little  cowslip 

Should  hang  its  golden  cup, 
And  say,  "  I'm  such  a  tiny  flower, 

I'd  better  not  grow  up." 
How  many  a  weary  traveller 

Would  miss  its  fragrant  smell ! 
How  many  a  little  child  would  grieve 

To  lose  it  from  the  dell ! 

Suppose  the  glistening  dewdrop 

Upon  the  grass  should  say, 
"  What  can  a  little  dewdrop  do  ? 

I'd  better  roll  away." 
The  blade  on  which  it  rested, 

Before  the  day  was  done, 
Without  a  drop  to  moisten  it. 

Would  wither  in  the  sun. 

'Suppose  the  little  breezes, 

Upon  a  summer's  day. 
Should  think  themselves  too  small  to  cool 

The  traveller  on  his  way : 


76  SIMPLE  POEMS 

Who  would  not  miss  the  smallest 
And  softest  ones  that  blow, 

And  thmk  they  made  a  great  mistake, 
If  they  were  talking  so  ? 

How  many  deeds  of  kindness 

A  little  child  may  do. 
Although  it  has  so  little  strength, 

And  little  wisdom  too  ! 
It  wants  a  loving  spirit. 

Much  more  than  strength,  to  prove 
How  many  things  a  child  may  do 

For  others  by  its  love. 

F.  P. 

*  87  * 

CHICK-A-DE-DEE. 

The  ground  was  all  covered  with  snow  one  day, 

And  two  little  sisters  were  busy  at  play. 

When  a  snow-bird  was  sitting  close  by  on  a  tree. 

And  merrily  singing  his  chick-a-de-dee. 

Chick-a-de-dee,  chick-a-de-dee ! 

And  merrily  singing  his  chick-a-de-dee. 

He  had  not  been  singing  that  tune  very  long. 
Ere  Emily  heard  him,  so  sweet  was  his  song ; 
"  O  sister,  look  out  of  the  window  !  "  said  she : ' 
"  Here's  a  dear  little  bird  singing  chick-a-de-dee, 
Chick-a-de-dee,  chick-a-de-dee ; 
Here's  a  dear  little  bird  singing  chick-a-de-dee. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  11 

"  O  mother  !  do  get  him  some  stockings  and  shoes, 
And  a  nice  little  frock,  and  a  hat,  if  you  choose ; 
I  wish  he'd  come  into  the  parlor,  and  see 
How  warm  we  would  make  him,  poor  chick-a-de-dee ! 
Chick-a-de-dee,  chick-a-de-dee ! 
How  warm  we  would  make  him,  poor  chick-a-de- 
dee!" 

"There  is  One,  my  dear  child,  though  I  cannot 

tell  who. 
Has  clothed  me  already,  and  warm  enough,  too : 
Good-morning!     Oh,  who  are  so  happy  as  we?  " 
And  away  he  went,  singing  his  chick-a-de-dee. 
Chick-a-de-dee,  chick-a-de-dee ! 
And  away  he  went,  singing  his  chick-a-de-dee. 

F.   C.   "WOODWORTH. 

*  88  * 
DON'T   KILL   THE  BIRDS. 

Don't  kill  the  birds !  —  the  little  birds 

That  sing  about  your  door 
Soon  as  the  joyous  spring  has  come, 

And  chilling  storms  are  o'er. 
The  little  birds,  how  sweet  they  sing ! 

Oh,  let  them  joyous  live  ! 
And  never  seek  to  take  the  life 

That  you  can  never  give. 

Don't  kill  the  birds  !  —  the  pretty  birds 
That  play  among  the  trees : 


78  SIMPLE  POEMS 

'Twould  make  the  earth  a  cheerless  place, 
Should  we  dispense  with  ^  these. 

The  little  birds,  how  fond  they  play ! 
Do  not  disturb  their  sport. 

But  let  them  warble  forth  their  songs 
Till  winter  cuts  them  short. 

Don't  kill  the  birds !  —  the  happy  birds 

That  bless  the  field  and  grove ; 
So  innocent  to  look  upon, 

They  claim  our  warmest  love. 
The  happy  birds,  the  tuneful  birds, 

How  pleasant  'tis  to  see  ! 
No  spot  can  be  a  cheerless  place 

Where'er  their  presence  be. 

D.  C.  COLESWORTHY. 

*  89  * 
GOD'S   GOODNESS. 

Who  has  counted  the  leaves  that  fall 
In  the  autumn  from  the  trees  ? 

Who  has  counted  the  grains  of  sand 
That  are  hid  beneath  the  seas  ? 

Who  has  counted  how  many  flowers 
In  the  fields  and  gardens  grow  ? 

Who,  on  a  gloomy  winter's  day. 
Has  counted  the  flakes  of  snow  ? 

1  dispense  with,  do  without. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  79 

Who  has  fathomed  ^  the  deep,  deep  sea, 
Or  numbered  the  stars  at  night? 

Who  has  counted  the  drops  of  rain, 
Or  the  rays  of  sunny  light  ? 

None,  none  but  God.     He  made  them  all, 
And  he  knows  them  every  one,  — 

The  stars  and  flowers,  the  sands  and  trees, 
And  the  bright  rays  of  the  sun. 

The  sea  is  deep,  and  reaches  far, 

And  bright  is  the  sun  above : 
God's  goodness  reaches  farther  still. 

And  more  brightly  shines  his  love. 


*  90  * 

VIOLETS. 

Under  the  green  hedges,  after  the  snow, 
There  do  the  dear  little  violets  grow. 
Hiding  their  modest  and  beautiful  heads 
Under  the  hawthorn  in  soft  mossy  beds. 

Sweet  as  the  roses,  and  blue  as  the  sky, 
Down  there  do  the  dear  little  violets  lie, 
Hiding  their  heads  where  they  scarce  may  be  seen  ; 
By  the  leaves  you  may  know  where  the  violet  hath 
been. 

M.  Moultrie. 
1  fathomed,  found  out  the  depth  of. 


80  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  91  * 

GOD   SEES   ME. 

Theough  all  the  busy  daylight,  through  all  the 

quiet  night, 
Whether  the  stars  are  in  the  sky,  or  the  sun  is 

shining  bright, 
In  the  nursery,  in  the  parlor,  in  the  street,  or  on 

the  stair, 
Though  I  may  seem  to  be  alone,  yet  God  is  always 
there. 

Whatever  I  may  do, 
Wherever  I  may  be. 
Although  I  see  him  not, 
Yet  God  sees  me. 

He  knows  each  word  I  mean  to  speak,  before  the 

word  is  spoken  ; 
He  knows  the  thoughts  within  my  heart,  although 

I  give  no  token.^ 
When  I  am  naughty,  then  I  grieve  my  Heavenly 

Father's  love ; 
And,  every  time  I  really  try,  he  helps  me  from 
above. 

Whatever  I  may  do. 
Wherever  I  may  be. 
Although  I  see  him  not. 
Yet  God  sees  me. 

*  toketit  sigiii  that  which  serves  to  point  out  or  show  any  thing. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  81 

*  92  * 

THE    TRUTHFUL    PART. 

0  Father,  bless  a  little  child, 
And  in  her  early  youth 

Give  her  a  spirit  good  and  mild, 
A  soul  to  love  the  truth. 

May  never  falsehood  in  her  heart, 

Nor  in  her  words,  abide  ;  ^ 
But  may  she  act  the  truthful  part, 

Whatever  may  betide.^ 

*  93  * 

FLOWERS  ARE  BLOOMING. 

The  flowers  are  blooming  everywhere, 

On  every  hill  and  dell ; 
And,  oh,  how  beautiful  they  are ! 

How  fragrant,  too,  they  smell ! 

The  little  birds,  they  spring  along. 

And  look  so  glad  and  gay ; 
I  love  to  hear  their  pleasant  song, 

1  feel  as  glad  as  they. 

The  young  lambs  bleat  and  frisk  about ; 

The  bees  hum  round  their  hive ; 
The  butterflies  are  coming  out ; 

'Tis  good  to  be  alive. 

1  abide,  staj',  be  present.  *  betide,  happen. 


82  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  94  * 
THE  PET  LAMB. 

Storm  upon  the  mountain, 

Night  upon  his  throne, 
And  the  little  snow-white  lamb 

Left  alone,  alone ! 
Storm  upon  the  mountain. 

Rainy  torrents  beating, 
And  the  little  snow-white  lamb 

Bleating,  ever  bleating ! 

Down  the  glen  ^  the  shepherd 

Drives  his  flock  afar; 
Through  the  murky  ^  niist  and  cloud 

Shines  no  beacon  ^  star ; 
Fast  he  hurries  onward, 

Never  hears  the  moan 
t.    Of  the  pretty  snow-white  lamb 

Left  alone,  alone ! 

At  the  shepherd's  doorway 

Stands  his  little  son. 
Sees  the  sheep  come  trooping  home, 

Counts  them  one  by  one. 
Counts  them  full  and  fairly ; 

Trace  he  findeth  none 
Of  the  snow-white  lamb 

Left  alone,  alone  I 

1  glen,  deep  narrow  valley.  ^  murky,  black,  gloomy. 

3  beacon,  guiding. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  83 

Up  the  glen  he  races, 

Breasts  ^  the  bitter  wind, 
Scours  ^  across  the  plain,  and  leaves 

Wood  and  wold  ^  behind. 
Storm  upon  the  mountain, 

Night  upon  his  throne ; 
There  he  finds  the  little  lamb, 

Left  alone,  alone  I 

Struggling,  panting,  sobbing. 

Kneeling  on  the  ground. 
Round  the  pretty  creature's  neck 

Both  his  arms  are  wound  7 
Soon,  within  his  bosom. 

All  its  bleatings  done, 
Home  he  bears  the  little  lamb 

Left  alone,  alone ! 

Oh  the  happy  faces 

By  the  shepherd's  fire ! 
High  without  the  tempest  roars ; 

But  the  laugh  rings  higher : 
Young  and  old  together 

Make  that  joy  their  own ; 
In  their  midst  the  little  lamb 

Left  alone,  alone ! 

*  breasts,  faces,  bears  the  breast  against.       2  scours,  runs  swiftly. 
3  wold,  a  tract  of  hilly  land. 


84  ,  SIMPLE  POEMS 

*  95  * 

A  LITTLE  GIRL'S   GOOD-BY. 

GooD-BY,  daisy,  pink,  and  rose, 
And  snow-white  lily  too  ! 

Every  pretty  flower  that  grows : 
Here's  a  kiss  for  you. 

Good-by,  merry  bird  and  bee  I 

And  take  this  tiny  song 
For  the  one  you  sang  to  me 

All  the  summer  long, 

Good-by,  mossy  little  rill. 
That  shivers  in  the  cold ! 

Leaves  that  fall  on  vale  and  hill 
Cover  you  with  gold.^ 

A  sweet  good-by  to  birds  that  roam,^ 

And  rills,  and  flowers  and  bees ; 

But  when  winter's  ^  gone,  come  home 

As  early  as  you  please. 

George  Coopeb. 

*  96  * 

THE  BIRD'S    SONG. 

A  LITTLE  bird  with  feathers  brown 

Sat  singing  on  a  tree  ; 
The  song  was  very  soft  and  low. 

But  sweet  as  it  could  be. 

*  gold-colored  leaves.  2  roam,  go  from  place  to  place. 

s  winter's,  winter  is. 


AND  EASY  RHYMES.  85 

And  all  the  people  passing  by 

Looked  up  to  see  the  bird 
That  made  the  sweetest  melody  ^ 

That  ever  they  had  heard. 

But  all  the  bright  eyes  looked  in  vain. 

For  birdie  was  so  small ; 
And  with  a  modest  dark  brown  coat 

He  made  no  show  at  all. 

"  Papa  dear,"  little  Gracie  said, 

"  Where  can  this  birdie  be  ? 
If  I  could  sing  a  song  like  that 

I'd  sit  where  folks  could  see.'* 

"  I  hope  my  little  girl  will  learn 

A  lesson  from  that  bird, 
And  try  to  do  what  good  she  can, — 

Not  to  be  seen  or  heard. 

"  This  birdie  is  content  to  sit 

Unnoticed  by  the  way, 
And  sweetly  sing  his  Maker's  praise 

From  dawn  to  close  of  day. 

"  So  live,  my  child,  all  through  your  life. 

That,  be  it  short  or  long, 
Though  others  may  forget  your  looks, 

They'll  not  forget  your  song." 

1  melody,  music. 


And  just  as  many  daisies 
As  their  soft  hands  can  hold. 


p.  20. 


d^^j  |}^idi?a  fiJjt'lattnii  |'al[\$. 


^^^^>^a: 


THE  PIPER. 

Piping  ^  down  the  valleys  wild, 
Piping  songs  of  pleasant  glee, 

On  a  cloud  I  saw  a  child, 

And  he,  laughing,  said  to  me,  — 

"  Pipe  a  song  about  a  lamb  :  " 
So  I  piped  with  merry  cheer. 

"  Piper,  pipe  that  song  again :  " 
So  I  piped ;  he  wept  to  hear. 

"  Drop  thy  pipe,  thy  happy  pipe, 
Sing  thy  songs  of  happy  cheer : ' 

So  I  sang  the  same  again. 

While  he  wept  with  joy  to  hear. 

"  Piper,  sit  thee  down  and  write 
In  a  book,  that  all  may  read :  " 

So  he  vanished  from  my  sight. 
And  I  plucked  a  hollow  reed,^ 

1  piping,  plajnng  on  a  musical  pipe,  —  a  Ivind  of  flute. 
*  reed,  a  plant  or  grass  having  a  hollow  jointed  stem. 

3 


SELECT  POETRY 


And  I  made  a  rural  ^  pen, 

And  I  stained  2  the  water  clear, 

And  I  wrote  my  happy  songs. 
Every  child  may  joy  to  hear. 


W.  Blake 


ANSWER  TO   A   CHILD'S   QUESTION. 

Do  you  ask  what  the  birds  say?     The  sparrow, 

the  dove. 
The  linnet,  and  thrush  say,  "  I  love  and  I  love  !  " 
In  the  winter  they're  silent,  the  wind  is  so  strong ; 
What  it  says  I  don't  know,  but  it  sings  a  loud 

song. 
But  green  leaves  and  blossoms,  and  sunny  warm 

weather. 
And  singing  and  loving,  all  come  back  together ; 
Then  the  lark  is  so  brimful  of  gladness  and  love, 
The  green  fields  below  him,  the  blue  sky  above, 
That  he  sings,  and  he  sings,  and  forever  sings  he, 
"I  love  my  Love,  and  my  Love  loves  me." 

S.  T.  Coleridge. 

*  3  * 

THE  BLUEBIRD. 

I  KNOW  the  song  that  the  bluebird  is  singing, 
Out  in  the  ap})le-tree  where  he  is  swinging. 
Brave  little  fellow !  the  skies  may  be  dreary, 
Nothing  cares  he  while  his  heart  is  so  cheery. 

1  rural,  simple,  rude.  2  stained,  colored  or  made  inky. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS. 

Hark !  how  the  music  leaps  out  from  his  throat ! 
Hark !  was  there  ever  so  merry  a  note  ? 
Listen  awhile,  and  you'll  hear  what  he's  saying, 
Up  in  the  apple-tree,  swinging  and  swaying : 

"  Dear  little  blossoms,  down  under  the  snow, 
You  must  be  weary  of  winter,  I  know ; 
Hark !  while  I  sing  you  a  message  of  oheer. 
Summer  is  coming,  and  spring-time  is  here ! 

"  Little  white  snowdrop,  I  pray  you  arise  ; 
Bright  yellow  crocus,  come,  open  your  eyes 
Sweet  little  violets  hid  from  the  cold. 
Put  on  your  mantles  of  purple  and  gold ; 
Daffodils,  daffodils!  say,  do  you  hear? 
Summer  is  coming,  and  spring-time  is  here  ! " 

Emily  Huntington  Miller. 

*  4  * 
THE   DAISY. 

Before  the  stars  are  in  the  sky, 

The  daisy  goes  to  rest. 
And  folds  its  little  shining  leaves 

Upon  its  golden  breast. 

And  so  it  sleeps  in  dewy  night 

Until  the  morning  breaks, 
Then,  with  the  songs  of  early  birds, 

So  joyously  awakes. 


SELECT  POETRY 

And  children,  when  they  go  to  bed, 
Should  fold  their  hands  in  prayer. 

And  place  themselves  and  all  they  love 
In  God's  protecting  care. 

Then  they  may  sleep  secure  and  still 
Through  hours  of  darksome  ^  night, 

And  with  the  pretty  daisy  wake 
In  cheerful  morning  light. 


*  5  * 
WINTER  JEWELS. 

A  MiLLiOiT  little  diamonds 

Twinkled  on  the  trees ; 
And  all  the  little  maidens  said, 

"  A  jewel,  if  you  please  !  " 

But,  while  they  held  their  hands  outstretched 

To  catch  the  diamonds  gay, 
A  million  little  sunbeams  came 

And  stole  them  all  away. 

*  6  » 

LADY-BIRD,  LADY-BIRD. 

Lady-bikd,  2  lady-bird,  fly  away  home  ! 
The  field-mouse  is  gone  to  her  nest; 

1  darksome,  dark,  gloomy.         *  lady-bird,  a  small  spotted  beetle. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  7 

The  daisies  have  shut  up  their  little  bright  eyes, 
And  the  bees  and  the  birds  are  at  rest. 

Lady-bird,  lady-bird,  fly  away  home ! 

The  glowworm  is  lighting  her  lamp ; 
The   dew's   falling  fast,  and  your  fine   speckled 
wings 

Will  be  wet  with  the  close-clinging  damp. 

Lady-bird,  lady-bird,  fly  away  home ! 

The  fairy  bells  tinkle  afar ; 
Make  haste,  or  they'll  catch  you,  and  harness  you 
fast. 
With  a  cobweb,  to  Oberon's  ^  car. 

Cakoline  Bowles  Southey. 

*  Y  * 
A  LAUGHING  SONG. 

When  the  green  woods  laugh  with  the  voice  of 

And  the  dimpling  stream  runs  laughing  by ; 
When  the  air  does  laugh  with  our  merry  wit. 
And  the  green  hill  laughs  with  the  noise  of  it ; 

When  the  meadows  laugh  with  lively  green. 
And  the  grasshopper  laughs  in  the  merry  scene ; 
When  Mary,  and  Susan,  and  Emily, 
With  their  sweet  round   mouths,  sing  "Ha,  ha, 
he!" 

1  0¥eron,  the  imaginary  king  of  the  fairies. 


8  SELECT  POETRY 

When  the  painted  birds  laugh  in  the  shade 
Where    our    table    with    cherries    and    nuts    is 

spread,  — 
Come  live,  and  be  merry,  and  join  with  me 
To  sing  the  sweet  chorus  of  "  Ha,  ha,  he  I " 

W.  Blake. 

*  8  * 

A  BOAT  SONG. 

The  morn  shines  bright, 
And  the  bark  bounds  light 

As  the  stag  bounds  o'er  the  lea :  ^ 
We  love  the  strife 
Of  the  sailor's  life, 

And  we  love  our  dark-blue  sea. 

Now  high,  now  low. 
To  the  depths  we  go. 

Now  rise  to  the  surge  again : 
We  make  a  track 
On  the  Ocean's  back, 

And  play  with  his  hoary  mane.^ 

Fearless  we  face 

The  storm  in  its  chase. 

When  the  dark  clouds  fly  before  it, 
And  meet  the  shock 
Of  the  fierce  Siroc,^ 

Though  death  breathes  hotly  o'er  it. 

^  lea,  grass-land.  -  hoary  mane,  white  tops  of  the  waves. 

*  Siroc,  the  Sirocco,  n  hot  wind  from  the  Great  Desert  of  Africa. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS. 

The  landsman  may  quail 
At  the  shout  of  the  gale, 

Which  peril's  ^  the  sailor's  joy ; 
But  wild  as  the  waves 
Which  his  vessel  braves, 

Is  the  lot  of  the  sailor  boy. 

Sib  E.  B.  Lytton. 

*  9  * 

THE  FAIRIES. 

Up  the  airy  ^  mountain, 

Down  the  rushy  ^  glen, 
We  daren't  go  a-hunting 

For  fear  of  little  men  ; 
Wee  *  folk,  good  folk. 

Trooping  all  together,  — 
Green  jacket,  red  cap. 

And  white  owl's  feather  ! 

Down  along  the  rocky  shore 

Some  make  their  home  ; 
They  live  on  crispy  pancakes 

Of  yellow  tide-foam ; 
Some  in  the  reeds 

Of  the  black  mountain  lake, 
With  frogs  for  their  watch-dogs, 

All  night  awake. 

*  peril's,  peril  is.  2  airy,  high  in  air. 

'  rushy,  containing  rushes,  plants  with  round  stems  and  no  leaves. 
*  wee,  little. 


10  SELECT  POETRY 

High  on  the  hill-top 

The  old  King  sits ; 
He  is  now  so  old  and  gray 

He's  nigh  lost  his  wits.    . 

With  a  bridge  of  white  mist 

Columbkill  ^  he  crosses 
On  his  stately  journeys 

From  Slieveleague  ^  to  Rosses ;  ^ 
Or  going  up  with  music 

On  cold  starry  nights, 
To  sup  with  the  Queen 

Of  the  gay  Northern  Lights.^ 

They  stole  little  Bridget, 

For  seven  years  long ; 
When  she  came  down  again, 

Her  friends  were  all  gone. 
They  took  her  lightly  back, 

Between  the  night  and  morrow ; 
They  thought  that  she  was  fast  asleep ; 

But  she  was  dead  with  sorrow. 

They  have  kept  her  ever  since 

Deep  within  the  lakes, 
On  a  bed  of  flag-leaves, 

Watching  till  she  wakes. 

1  Columbkill,  a  glen  between  Slieveleague,  a  mountain,  and  Rosses,  islands 
on  the  coast  of  Donegal,  Ireland. 

2  Northern  Lights,  the  bright  streamers  sometimes  seen  in  the  northern 
sky,  —  called,  also,  aurora  borealia. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  11 

By  the  craggy  hillside, 

Through  the  mosses  bare, 
They  have  planted  thorn-trees 

For  pleasure  here  and  there. 
Is  any  man  so  daring 

As  dig  one  up  in  spite, 
He  shall  find  the  thornies  ^  set 

In  his  bed  at  night. 

Up  the  airy  mountain, 

Down  the  rushy  glen, 
We  daren't  go  a-hunting, 

For  fear  of  little  men ; 
Wee  folk,  good  folk. 

Trooping  all  together,  — 
Green  jacket,  red  cap, 

And  white  owl's  feather ! 

W.  ALLtNGHAM. 

*  10  * 

THE  BROWN  THRUSH. 

There's  a  merry  brown  thrush  sitting  up  in  the 
tree : 
He's  singing  to  me  ;  he's  singing  to  me ! 
And  what  does  he  say,  little  girl,  little  boy? 
"  Oh,  the  world's  running  over  with  joy ! 
Don't  you  hear  ?     Don't  you  see  ? 
Hush !     Look  !     In  my  tree 
I'm  as  happy  as  happy  can  be  !  " 

1  thornies,  thorns,  prickles. 


12  SELECT  POETRY 

And  the  brown  thrush  keeps  singing,  ''  A  nest,  do 
you  see. 
And  five  eggs  hid  by  me  in  the  juniper-tree  ?  ^ 
Don't  meddle,  don't  touch!  little  girl,  little  boy, 
Or  the  world  will  lose  some  of  its  joy : 
Now  I'm  glad !  now  I'm  free ! 
And  I  always  shall  be. 
If  you  never  bring  sorrow  to  me." 

So  the  merry  brown  thrush  sings  away  in  the  tree, 

To  you  and  to  me,  to  you  and  to  me ; 
And  he  sings  all  the  day,  little  girl,  little  boy : 
"  Oh,  the  world's  running  over  with  joy  ! 
But  long  it  won't  be  — 
Don't  you  know  ?  don't  you  see  ?  — 
Unless  we  are  as  good  as  can  be  ! " 

Lucy  Laecom. 

*  11  * 

EGBERT   OF   LINCOLN. 

Merrily  swinging  on  brier  and  weed. 

Near  to  the  nest  of  his  little  dame. 
Over  the  mountain-side  or  mead, 

Robert  of  Lincoln  is  telling  his  name : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink; 
Snug  and  safe  is  that  nest  of  ours. 
Hidden  among  the  summer  flowers. 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

»  juniper-tree,  a  kind  of  evergreen  tree. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  13 

Robert  of  Lincoln  is  gayly  dressed, 

Wearing  a  bright  black  wedding-coat; 
White  are  his  shoulders,  and  white  his  crest ; 
Hear  him  call  in  his  merry  note : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
Look  what  a  nice  new  coat  is  mine, 
Sure  there  was  never  a  bird  so  fine. 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

Robert  of  Lincoln's  Quaker  wife. 

Pretty  and  quiet,  with  plain  brown  wings, 
Passing  at  home  a  patient  life. 

Broods  ^  in  the  grass  while  her  husband  sings : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink; 
Brood,  kind  creature :  you  need  not  fear 
Thieves  and  robbers  while  I  am  here. 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

Modest  and  shy  as  a  nun  is  she ; 

One  weak  chirp  is  her  only  note ; 
Braggart,  and  prince  of  braggarts,  is  he, 
Pouring  boasts  from  his  little  throat : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
Never  was  I  afraid  of  man ; 
Catch  me,  cowardly  knaves,^  if  you  can ! 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

1  broods,  sits  on  her  eggs  to  hatch  them.        2  knaves,  bad  fellows. 


14  SELECT  POETRY 

Six  white  eggs  on  a  bed  of  hay,     . 

Flecked  1  Avith  purple,  a  pretty  sight ! 
There  as  the  mother  sits  all  day, 

Robert  is  singing  with  all  his  might : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink; 
Nice  good  wife  that  never  goes  out, 
Keeping  house  while  I  frolic  about. 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

Soon  as  the  little  ones  chip  the  shell, 
Six  wide  mouths  are  open  for  food ; 
Robert  of  Lincoln  bestirs  him  well. 
Gathering  seeds  for  the  hungry  brood. 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
This  new  life  is  likely  to  be 
Hard  for  a  gay  young  fellow  like  me. 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

Robert  of  Lincoln  at  length  is  made 

Sober  with  work  and  silent  with  care ; 
Off  is  his  holiday  garment  laid. 
Half  forgotten  that  merry  air : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
Nobody  knows  but  my  mate  and  I 
Where  our  nest  and  our  nestlings  lie : 
Chee,  chee,  chee, 

1  flecked,  streaked  or  spotted. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  15 

Summer  wanes ;  ^  the  children  are  grown ; 

Fun  and  frolic  no  more  he  knows ; 
Robert  of  Lincoln's  ^  a  humdrum  crone ;  ^ 
Off  he  flies,  and  we  sing  as  he  goes, 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink; 
When  you  can  pipe  that  merry  old  strain, 
Robert  of  Lincoln,  come  back  again. 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

William  Cullen  Bryant. 


*  12  * 
ROBIN   REDBREAST. 

GooD-BY,  good-by  to  Summer ! 

For  Summer's  nearly  done  ; 
The  garden  smiling  faintly, 

Cool  breezes  in  the  sun. 
Our  thrushes  now  are  silent. 

Our  swallows  flown  away ; 
But  Robin's  here,  with  coat  of  brown, 

And  ruddy  breast-knot  gay. 

Robin,  Robin  Redbreast, 

O  Robin  dear ! 
Robin  sings  so  sweetly 

In  the  falling  of  the  year ! 


wanes,  is  near  its  end.  2  Lincoln's,  Lincoln  is. 

8  crone,  an  old  woman. 


16  SELECT  POETRY 

Bright  yellow,  red,  and  orange, 

The  leaves  come  down  in  hosts; 
The  trees  are  Indian  princes. 

But  soon  they'll  turn  to  ghosts ; 
The  scanty  pears  and  apples 

Hang  russet  on  the  bough : 
It's  Autumn,  Autumn,  Autumn  late, 

'Twill  soon  be  Winter  now. 

Eobin,  Robin  Redbreast, 

O  Robin  dear ! 
And  what  will  this  poor  Robin  do  ? 

For  pinching  days  are  near. 

The  fireside  for  the  cricket. 

The  wheat-stack  for  the  mouse. 
When  trembling  night-winds  whistle 

And  moan  all  round  the  house. 
The  frosty  twigs  like  iron. 

The  branches  plumed  with  snow,  — 
Alas !  in  Winter  dead  and  dark, 

Where  can  poor  Robin  go? 

Robin,  Robin  Redbreast, 

O  Robin  dear ! 
And  a  crumb  of  bread  for  Robin, 

His  little  heart  to  cheer ! 

W.  Allingham. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  17 

*  13   * 
THE  BROOK. 

Whi;re  are  you  running  so  fast,  little  brook, 

Over  the  stones  so  gray  ? 
Stop  for  a  moment,  I  prithee,^  dear  brook,  — 

Just  for  a  moment,  and  play. 

You  chatter  away  as  you  flow,  little  brook, 

But  speak  to  me  never  a  word. 
Though  often  I  whisper  to  you,  little  brook. 

Sweet  secrets  by  others  unheard. 

Oh !  what  do  you  say  to  the  birds,  little  brook. 

That  fly  to  your  bosom  to  drink  ? 
Oh !  what  do  you  say  to  the  flowers,  dear  brook. 

That  cluster  so  close  to  your  brink  ? 

And  what  do  you  say  to  yourself,  little  brook, 

As  you  ripple  in  music  along  ? 
The  while  that  I  fill  my  pitcher,  dear  brook, 

Please  tell  me  the  words  of  your  song. 

You  are  hasting  away  to  the  sea,  dear  brook, 

To  the  great,  unfathom^d  ^  sea ; 
You  may  not  delay  for  a  moment,  dear  brook : 

Is  that  what  you  whisper  to  me  ? 

^  I  prithee  (th  sounded  as  in  this),  I  pray  thee. 
*  un/athomed,  not  sounded  to  find  out  the  depth. 


18  SELECT  POETRY 

Ah !  then,  is  your  life  like  ours,  little  brook, 

Ever  hurrying,  hurrying  on. 
Till  the  waves  of  an  unknown  sea,  little  brook, 

We  reach  some  day,  and  are  gone. 

Mks.  Charles  Heaton. 

*  14  * 
CHERISH   KINDLY  FEELINGS. 

Cherish  kindly  feelings,  children, 

Nurse  them  in  your  heart ; 
Don't  forget  to  take  them  with  you 

When  from  home  you  start. 
In  the  schoolroom,  in  the  parlor. 

At  your  work  or  play, 
Kindly  thoughts  and  kindly  feelings 

Cherish  everyday. 

Cherish  kindly  feelings,  children. 

While  on  earth  you  stay. 
•    They  will  scatter  light  and  sunshine 

All  along  your  wa}^ 
Make  the  path  of  duty  brighter. 

Make  your  trials  less. 
And,  whatever  your  lot  or  station. 

Bring  you  happiness. 

M.  A.  Kidder. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS,  19 

*  15  * 
FAULTS   OF   OTHERS. 

What  are  another's  faults  to  me  ? 

I've  not  a  vulture's  bill 
To  pick  at  every  flaw  I  see, 

And  make  it  wider  still. 

It  is  enough  for  me  to  know 

I've  follies  of  my  own, 
And  on  my  heart  the  care  bestow. 

And  let  my  friends  alone. 

D.   C.   COLESWOBTHY. 

*  16  * 
MARCH. 

The  cock  is  crowing, 

The  stream  is  flowing. 

The  small  birds  twitter. 

The  lake  doth  glitter. 
The  green  field  sleeps  in  the  sun  : 

The  oldest  and  youngest 

Are  at  work  with  the  strongest ; 

The  cattle  are  grazing, 

Their  heads  never  raising ; 
There  are  forty  feeding  like  one ! 

Like  an  army  defeated 
The  snow  hath  retreated. 


20  SELECT  POETRY 

And  now  doth  fare  ill  ^ 

On  the  top  of  the  bare  hill ; 
The  plough-boy  is  whooping  anon,  anon  ;  ^ 

There's  joy  in  the  mountains ; 

There's  life  in  the  fountains ; 

Small  clouds  are  sailing, 

Blue  sky  prevailing ;  ^ 
The  rain  is  over  and  gone ! 

W.  WOKDSWORTH. 


*  17  * 

SPRING. 

The  alder  by  the  river 

Shakes  out  her  powdery  curls ; 

The  willow  buds  *  in  silver 
For  little  boys  and  girls. 

The  little  birds  fly  over, 

And  oh,  how  sweet  they  sing ! 

To  tell  the  happy  children 
That  once  again  'tis  spring. 

The  gay  green  grass  comes  creeping 

So  soft  beneath  their  feet ; 
The  frogs  begin  to  ripple 

A  music  clear  and  sweet. 

1  gets  on  badly  (as  it  is  melting  away).      »  prevailing,  becoming  general. 
*  anon,  at  times.  *  buds,  puts  forth  buds. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  21 

And  buttercups  are  coming, 

And  scarlet  columbine ; 
And  in  the  sunny  meadows 

The  dandelions  shine. 

And  just  as  many  daisies 

As  their  soft  hands  can  hold 
The  little  ones  may  gather, 

All  fair  in  white  and  gold. 

Here  blows  the  warm  red  clover, 

There  peeps  the  violet  blue ; 
O  happy  little  children, 

God  made  them  all  for  you ! 

Celia  Thaxter. 

*  18  * 

BIRDS   IN'  SUMMER. 

How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be. 
Flitting  about  in  each  leafy  tree  !  — 
In  the  leafy  trees  so  broad  and  tall. 
Like  a  green  and  beautiful  palace  hall, 
With  its  airy  chambers,  light  and  boon,i 
That  open  to  sun  and  stars  and  moon ; 
That  open  unto  the  bright  blue  sky, 
And  the  frolicsome  winds  as  they  wander  by ! 

They  have  left  their  nests  on  the  forest  bough  — 
Those  homes  of  delight  they  need  not  now ; 

^  boorit  gay,  cheerful. 


22  SELECT  POETRY 

And  the  young  and  the  old  they  wander  out, 

And  traverse  ^  their  green  world  round  about ; 

And  hark  !  at  the  top  of  this  leafy  hall, 

How  one  to  the  other  in  love  they  call ! 

"  Come  up,  come  up !  "  they  seem  to  say, 

"  Where  the  topmost  twigs  in  the  breezes  sway. 

"  Come  up,  come  up !  for  the  world  is  fair 

Where  the  merry  leaves  dance  in  the  summer  air." 

And  the  birds  below  give  back  the  cry : 

"  We  come,  we  come,  to  the  branches  high."  - 

How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be, 

Flitting  about  in  a  leafy  tree  ! 

And  away  through  the  air  what  joy  to  go, 

And  to  look  on  the  bright  green  earth  below  I 

Mary  Howitt. 

*  19  * 

HIE  AWAY. 

Hie  2  away,  hie  away  ! 
Over  bank  and  over  brae,^ 
Where  the  copse  wood*  is  the  greenest, 
Where  the  fountains  glisten  sheenest,^ 
Where  the  lady-fern  grows  strongest. 
Where  the  morning  dew  lies  longest, 
Where  the  blackcock  sweetest  sips  it, 
Where  the  fairy  latest  trips  it :  ^ 

*  traverse,  pass  over  or  through.  *  f^ig^  hasten. 

'  brae  (pronounced  '  bray ') ,  a  Scottish  word  meaning  •  a  slope  of  a  hill.' 

*  copsewood,  wood  of  small  growth.  "  a  keenest,  brightest. 

«  trips  it,  runs  or  steps  lightly  or  nimbly. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  23 

Hie  to  haunts  right  seldom  seen, 
Lovely,  lonesome,  cool,  and  green, 
Over  bank  and  over  brae. 
Hie  away,  hie  away ! 

Sm  Walter  Scott. 


*  20  * 
WINTER. 

Old  Winter  is  a  sturdy  one. 
And  lasting  stuff  he's  made  of ; 

His  flesh  is  firm  as  iron-stone ; 
There's  nothing  he's  afraid  of. 

He  spreads  his  coat  upon  the  heath,^ 

Nor  yet  to  warm  it  lingers ; 
He  scouts  2  the  thought  of  aching  teeth, 

Or  chilblains  on  his  fingers. 

Of  flowers  that  bloom,  or  birds  that  sing. 
Full  little  cares  or  knows  he ; 

He  hates  the  fire,  and  hates  the  Spring, 
And  all  that's  warm  and  cosey. 

But  when  the  foxes  bark  aloud 

On  frozen  hill  and  river. 
When  round  the  fire  the  people  crowd. 

And  rub  their  hands,  and  shiver, 

1  heath,  an  open  waste  tract  of  land. 

2  scouts,  sneers  or  laughs  at. 


24  SELECT  POETRY 

When  frost  is  splitting  stone  and  wall, 
And  trees  come  crashing  after,  — 

That  hates  he  not,  he  loves  it  all,  — 
Then  bursts  he  out  in  laughter. 

His  home  is  by  the  North  Pole's  strand,^ 
Where  earth  and  sea  are  frozen ; 

His  summer-house,  we  understand, 
In  Switzerland  he's  chosen. 

Now  from  the  North  he's  hither  hied 
To  show  his  strength  and  power ; 

And,  when  he  comes,  we  stand  aside, 
And  look  at  him,  and  cower.^ 

From  the  German. 

*  21  * 

HARVEST-HOME. 

Habk  !  from  woodlands  far  away 
Sounds  the  merry  roundelay ;  ^ 
Now,  across  the  russet  ^  plain. 
Slowly  moves  the  loaded  wain ;  ^ 
Greet  the  reapers  as  they  come  — 
Happy,  happy  harvest-home  !  ^ 

Never  fear  the  wintry  blast. 
Summer  suns  will  shine  at  last ; 

1  strand,  shore,  beach  of  the  sea.  ^  cowers  shrink,  or  crouch. 

roundelay,  a  song  in  which  the  passages  or  parts  are  repeated. 

russet,  reddish-brown.  '^  tcain,  wagon. 

«  harvest-home,  time  of  bringing  home  the  harvest. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  25 

See  the  golden  grain  appear, 
See  the  produce  of  the  year. 

Greet  the  reapers  as  they  come  — 

Happy,  happy  harvest-home ! 

Children  join  the  jocund  ^  ring. 

Young  and  old  come  forth  and  sing ; 
Stripling  blithe,^  and  maiden  gay. 
Hail  the  rural  holiday. 

Greet  the  reapers  as  they  come  — 

Happy,  happy  harvest-home  ! 

Peace  and  plenty  be  our  lot, 
All  the  pangs  of  war  forgot ; 
Strength  to  toil,  and  ample  store, 
Bless  our  country  evermore ! 

Greet  the  reapers  as  they  come  — 

Happy,  happy  harvest-home ! 

*  22  * 
THE   FOUR   SEASONS. 
SPRING. 

SPKiNa  day,  happy  day  ! 
God  hath  made  the  earth  so  gay ! 
Every  little  flower  he  waketh  ; 
Every  herb  to  grow  he  maketh. 
When  the  pretty  lambs  are  springing, 
When  the  little  birds  are  singing, 
Child,  forget  not  God  to  praise, 
Who  hath  sent  such  happy  days. 

1  Jocund,  merry,       2  i,iit/ie  (pron.  *  blith,'  —  th  as  in  '  this ') ,  joyful. 


26  SELECT  POETRY 

SUMMER. 

Summer  day,  sultry  day  ! 
Hotly  burns  the  noontide  ^  ray ; 
Gentle  drops  of  summer  showers 
Fall  on  thirsty  trees  and  flowers ; 
On  the  cornfield  ^  rain  doth  pour, 
Ripening  grain  for  winter  store. 
Child,  to  God  thy  thanks  should  be, 
Who  in  summer  thinks  of  thee. 

AUTUMN. 

Autumn  day,  fruitful  day  ! 
See  what  God  hath  given  away ! 
Orchard  trees  with  fruit  are  bending; 
Harvest  wains  ^  are  homeward  wending ;  * 
And  the  Lord  all  o'er  the  land 
Opens  wide  his  bounteous  hand. 
Children,  gathering  fruits  that  fall. 
Think  of  God,  who  gives  them  all. 

WINTER. 

Winter  day,  frosty  day  ! 
God  a  cloak  on  all  doth  lay ; 
On  the  earth  the  snow  he  sheddeth ; 
O'er  the  lamb  a  fleece  he  spreadeth ; 
Gives  the  bird  a  coat  of  feather 
To  protect  it  from  the  weather; 
Gives  the  children  home  and  food. 
Let  us  praise  him  :   God  is  good. 

*  noontide,  noon-tinic,  mid-day.  '  wains,  wagons. 

2  cornfield,  field  of  wheat  or  other  grain.  «  wending,  going. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  31 

She  loved  them  as  only  a  mother  loves, 

And  sang  them  her  songs  of  glee : 
There  were  no  little  birds  more  happy  than  they, 

In  their  home  in  the  chosen  tree. 

P  at  one  of  this  little  family 

Grew  tired  of  his  mother's  care ; 
He  sat  all  day  in  a  sullen  mood. 

And  nought  to  him  was  fair. 

For  the  heart  of  this  little  bird  was  changed. 
And  he  thought  he  should  like  to  roam 

Away  o'er  the  fields  and  the  high  green,  hills. 
In  search  of  a  brighter  home. 

II. 

Ah  me  !  there  is  not  a  brighter  home 
Than  that  which  is  lighted  by  love  ; 

There  is  no  other  light  so  divinely  sweet, — 
Not  the  moon  nor  the  stars  above. 

But  he  fled  away,  and  he  sported  awhile 
Amid  flowers  of  rich  perfume  and  hue ; 

But  when  night  came^on,  he  was  weary  and  cold. 
And  it  rained,  and'the  storm-wind  blew. 

Ah  !  then  he  thought  of  his  mother's  ^ing, 

Which  had  covered  him  tenderly. 
And  his  little  brothers,  so  happy  and  good, 

In  their  home  in  the  chosen  tree. 


32  SELECT  POETRY 

Then  he  lifted  his  voice ;  but  none  to  hear 
The  sound  of  his  sorrow  were  nigh ; 

So  he  covered  his  head  with  his  half-fledged  win^ 
And  he  sat  on  a  stone  to  die. 

Oh !  never  more  in  that  beautiful  wood 
Was  the  sound  of  his  gladness  heard ; 

And  for  many  a  day  did  his  brothers  weep 
For  the  loss  of  the  truant  bird. 

And  for  many  a  day  no  song  of  joy 
Came  up  from  his  mother's  breast  : 

She  mourned  for  him  with  drooping  wings ; 
But  he  came  not  again  to  his  nest. 

And  thus,  little  children,  from  this  you  may  lear; 

How  even  one  child  may  be 
The  cause  of  sorrow,  which  nought  may  remove, 

From  a  little  family. 

You  each  have  a  home  in  a  chosen  tree, 

Which  your  parents  have  lighted  with  love : 

Oh !  cause  not  the  shadows  of  grief  to  descend, 
The  beautiful  light  to  remove. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  39 

looked  on  the  peasant's  lowly  cot,  — 
Something  of  sadness  had  wrapt  the  spot, 
3ut  a  gleam  of  thee  on  its  lattice  fell, 
\.nd    it    laughed    into    beauty    at    that     bright 
spell. 

Junbeam  of  Summer  !     Oh,  what  is  like  thee, 

lope  of  the  wilderness,  joy  of  the  sea ! 

—  One  thing  is  like  thee  to  mortals  given, 

["he  faith  touching  all  things  with  hues  of  heaven ! 

Felicia  Hemans. 


*  33  * 

WE   ARE   SEVEN. 

I. 

I  MET  a  little  cottage  girl : 

She  was  eight  years  old,  she  said ; 

Her  hair  was  thick  with  many  a  curl 
That  clustered  round  her  head. 

She  had  a  rustic,  woodland  air, 

And  she  was  wildly  clad: 
Her  eyes  were  fair,  and  very  fair ; 

Her  beauty  made  me  glad. 

"  Sisters  and  brothers,  little  Maid, 

How  many  may  you  be  ?  " 
"  How  many?     Seven  in  all,"  she  said, 

And  wondering  looked  at  me. 


40  SELECT  POETRY 

"  And  where  are  they  ?     I  pra}^  you  tell." 

She  answered,  '^  Seven  are  we  ; 
And  two  of  us  at  Conway  dwell, 

And  two  are  gone  to  sea ; 

"  Two  of  us  in  the  churchyard  lie,  — 

My  sister  and  my  brother  ; 
And  in  the  churchyard  cottage  I 

Dwell  near  them  with  my  mother." 

"  You  say  that  two  at  Conway  dwell, 

And  two  are  gone  to  sea, 
Yet  ye  are  seven  !  —  I  pray  you  tell, 

Sweet  Maid,  how  this  may  be." 

Then  did  the  little  Maid  reply : 

"  Seven  boys  and  girls  are  we  ; 
Two  of  us  in  the  churchyard  lie. 

Beneath  the  churchyard  tree." 

"  You  run  about,  my  little  Maid, 

Your  limbs  they  are  alive  ; 
If  two  are  in  the  churchyard  laid. 

Then  ye  are  only  five." 

n. 

"  Their  graves  are  green,  they  may  be  seen," 

The  little  Maid  replied, 
'* Twelve  steps  or  more  from  my  mother's  door; 

And  they  are  side  by  side. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  41 

"  My  stockings  there  I  often  knit, 

My  kerchief  ^  tliere  I  hem ; 
And  there  upon  the  ground  I  sit,  — 

I  sit  and  sing  to  them. 

"  And  often  after  sunset,  Sir, 

When  it  is  light  and  fair, 
I  take  my  little  porringer,^ 

And  eat  my  supper  there. 

"  The  first  that  died  was  Sister  Jane ; 

In  bed  she  moaning  lay 
Till  God  released  her  of  her  pain. 

And  then  she  went  away. 

"So  in  the  churchyard  she  was  laid ; 

And  when  the  grass  was  dry. 
Together  round  her  grave  we  played,  — 

My  brother  John  and  I. 

"  And  when  the  ground  was  white  with  snow. 

And  I  could  run  and  slide, 
My  brother  John  was  forced  to  go. 

And  he  lies  by  her  side." 

"  How  many  are  you,  then,"  said  I, 

"Tf  they  two  are  in  heaven?" 
The  little  Maiden  did  reply, 

"  O  master  !  we  are  seven." 

1  kerchief,  a  piece  of  cloth  used  in  dress,  especially  one  for  the  head. 

2  porringer,  a  small  dish  for  porridge. 


42  SELECT  POETRY 

"  But  they  are  dead ;  those  two  are  dead : 

Their  spirits  are  in  heaven  !  " 
'Twas  throwing  words  away ;  for  still 
The  little  Maid  would  have  her  will, 

And  said,  "  Nay,  we  are  seven !  " 

W.    AVOKDSWORTH. 

*  34  * 

GOOD-NIGHT  AND   GOOD-MORNING. 

A  FAIR  little  girl  sat  under  a  tree 

Sewing  as  long  as  her  eyes  could  see ; 

Then  smoothed  her  work,  and  folded  it  right, 

And  said,  "  Dear  work,  good-night,  good-night !  " 

Such  a  number  of  rooks  ^  came  over  her  head. 
Crying,  "  Caw,  caw ! "  on  their  way  to  bed  ; 
She  said,  as  she  watched  their  curious  flight, 
"  Little  black  things,  good-night,  good-night !  " 

The  horses  neighed,  and  the  oxen  lowed ; 
The  sheep's  "  Bleat,  bleat ! "  came  over  the  road, 
All  seeming  to  say,  with  a  quiet  delight, 
"  Good  little  girl,  good-night,  good-night !  " 

She  did  not  say  to  the  sun,  "  Good-night !  " 
Though  she  saw  him  there,  like  a  ball  of  light ; 
For  she  knew  he  had  God's  own  time  to  keep 
All  over  the  world,  and  never  could  sleep. 

1  rook,  a  bird  like  a  crow. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS.  45 

*  36  * 
LITTLE  BELL. 
I. 
Piped  the  blackbird  on  the  woodland  spray ,^ 
"  Pretty  maid,  slowly  wandering  this  way, 

What's  your  name  ?  "  Quoth  he,^ 
"  What's  your  name  ?     Oh,  stop,  and  straight  un- 

fold,3 
Pretty  maid  with  showery  curls  of  gold." 
"  Little  Bell,"  said  she. 

Little  Bell  sat  down  beneath  the  rocks, 
Tossed  aside  her  gleaming  golden  locks, 

"  Bonny  bird !  "  quoth  she, 
"  Sing  me  your  best  song  before  I  go." 
"Here's  the  very  finest  song  I  know, 

Little  Bell,"  said  he. 

And  the  blackbird  piped ;  you  never  heard 
Half  so  gay  a  song  from  any  bird,  — 

Full  of  quips  and  wiles  :  * 
Now  so  round  and  rich,  now  soft  and  slow,. 
All  for  love  of  that  sweet  face  below. 

Dimpled  o'er  with  smiles. 

And  the  while  ^  the  bonny  bird  did  pour 
His  full  heart  out  freely  o'er  and  o'er 
'Neath  the  morning  skies, 

1  spray,  sprig,  twig.  3  straight  unfold,  quickly  tell. 

2  quoth,  (kwoth),  said.  *  quips  and  wiles,  odd  and  sly  variations. 

s  the  while,  during  the  tinae  that,  while. 


46  SELECT  POETRY 

In  the  little  childish  heart  below 
All  the  sweetness  seemed  to  grow  and  grow, 
And  shine  forth  in  happy  overflow 
From  the  blue,  bright  eyes. 

Down  the  dell  she  tripped ;  and  through  the  glade 
Peeped  the  squirrel  from  the  hazel  shade, 

And  from  out  the  tree 
Swung  and  leaped  and  frolicked,  void  of  fear, 
While  bold  blackbird  piped,  that  all  might  hear, 
^    "  Little  Bell !  "  piped  he. 

n. 

Little  Bell  sat  down  amid  the  fern : 

"  Squirrel,  squirrel,  to  your  task  return ; 

Bring  me  nuts  !  "  quoth  she. 
Up,  away,  the  frisky  squirrel  hies. 
Golden  wood  lights  glancing  in  his  eyes  ; 

And  adown  the  tree, 
Great  ripe  nuts,  kissed  brown  by  July  sun, 
In  the  little  lap  drop,  one  by  one : 
Hark,  how  blackbird  pipes  to  see  the  fun ! 

"  Happy  Bell !  "  pipes  he. 

Little  Bell  looked  up  and  down  the  glade : 
"  Squirrel,  squirrel,  from  the  nut-tree  shade, 
Bonny  blackbird,  if  you're  not  afraid. 

Come  and  share  with  me  !  " 
Down  came  squirrel,  eager  for  his  fare, 
Down  came  bonny  blackbird,  I  declare. 
Little  Bell  gave  each  his  honest  share, 

Ah  the  merry  three  ! 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  47 

And  the  while  those  frolic  playmates  twain  ^ 
Piped  and  frisked  from  bough  to  bough  again, 

'Neath  the  morning  skies, 
In  the  little  childish  heart  below 
All  the  sweetness  seemed  to  grow  and  grow, 
And  shine  out  in  happy  overflow 

From  the  blue,  bright  eyes. 

By  her  snow-white  cot,  at  close  of  day. 
Knelt  sweet  Bell  with  folded  palms  to  pray ; 

Very  calm  and  clear 
Rose  the  praying  voice  to  where,  unseen 
In  blue  heaven,  an  angel  shape  ^  serene 

Paused  awhile  to  hear. 

"  What  good  child  is  this,"  the  angel  said, 
"  That  with  happy  heart  beside  her  bed 

Prays  so  lovingly  ?  " 
Low  and  soft,  oh,  very  low  and  soft. 
Crooned  ^  the  blackbird  in  the  orchard  croft,* 

"  Bell,  dear  Bell !  "  crooned  he. 

J.  Westwood. 

*  37  * 

A   SHORT   SERMON. 

Children  who  read  my  lay,^ 
This  much  I  have  to  say  : 

1  twain,  two.        s  crooned,  hummed,  or  sang  in  a  low  tone, 
*  shape,  form.     <  orchard  croft,  patch  of  groimd  planted  with  fruit  trees. 
°  lay,  song,  pOem. 


48  SELECT  POETRY 

Each  day,  and  every  day, 

Do  what  is  right,  — 
Right  things  in  great  and  small, 
Then,  though  the  sky  should  fall, 
Sun,  moon,  and  stars,  and  all, 

You  shall  have  light. 

This  further  would  I  say  : 
Be  you  tempted  as  you  maj^ 
Each  day,  and  every  day. 

Speak  what  is  true,  — 
True  things  in  great  and  small ; 
Then,  though  the  sky  should  fall, 
Sun,  moon,  and  stars,  and  all. 

Heaven  would  show  through. 

Figs,  as  you  see  and  know, 
Do  not  out  of  thistles  grow ; 
And,  though  the  blossoms  blow 

While  on  the  tree, 
Grapes  never,  never  yet 
On  the  limbs  of  thorns  were  set : 
So,  if  you  good  would  get,^ 

Good  you  must  be. 

Life's  journey  through  and  through, 
Speaking  what  is  just  and  true. 
Doing  what  is  right  to  do 
Unto  one  and  all, 

1  get  or  receive  good. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  49 

When  you  work  and  when  you  play, 
Each  day,  and  every  day,  — 
Then  peace  shall  gild  your  way, 
Though  the  sky  should  fall. 

Alice  Gary. 

*  38  * 

WHICH   IS   YOUR  LOT? 

Some  children  roam  the  fields  and  hills. 

And  others  work  in  noisy  mills ; 

Some  dress  in  silks,  and  dance  and  play, 

While  others  drudge  their  lives  away ; 

Some  glow  with  health,  and  bound  with  song. 

And  some  must  suffer  all  day  long. 

Which  is  your  lot,  my  girl  and  boy  ? 

Is  it  a  life  of  ease  and  joy  ? 

Ah  !  if  it  is,  its  glowing  sun 

The  poorer  life  should  shine  upon. 

Make  glad  one  little  heart  to-day. 

And  help  one  burdened  child  to  play. 

*  39  * 
NEVER  PUT   OFF. 

Whene'er  a  duty  waits  for  thee. 
With  sober  judgment  view  it, 

And  never  idly  wish  it  done : 
Begin  at  once,  and  do  it. 


60  SELECT  POETRY 

For  Sloth  ^  says  falsely,  "  By  and  by 

Is  just  as  well  to  do  it :  " 
But  present  strength  is  surest  strength  : 

Begin  at  once,  and  do  it. 

And  find  not  lions  in  the  way, 
Nor  faint  if  thorns  bestrew  it ;  ^ 

But  bravely  try,  and  strength  will  come, 
For  God  will  help  thee  to  it. 


*  40  * 

NIGHT. 

The  sun  descending  in  the  west. 

The  evening  star  does  shine  ; 
The  birds  are  silent  in  their  nest, 
And  I  must  seek  for  mine. 
The  moon,  like  a  flower 
In  heaven's  high  bower. 
With  silent  delight 
Sits  and  smiles  on  the  night. 

Farewell,  green  fields  and  happy  groves, 
Where  flocks  have  ta'en  ^  delight ; 

Where  lambs  have  nibbled,  silent  moves 
The  feet  of  angels  bright ; 

sloth  (sloth),  laziness.        >  bestreio  it  (be-stroo^),  are  scattered  over  it. 
8  ta'en,  taken. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  51 

Unseen,  they  pour  blessing,  • 

And  joy  without  ceasing. 
On  each  bud  and  blossom, 
And  each  sleeping  bosom. 

They  look  in  every  thoughtless  nest, 

Where  birds  are  covered  warm. 
They  visit  caves  of  every  beast. 
To  keep  them  all  from  harm  :  — 
If  they  see  any  weeping 
That  should  have  been  sleeping, 
They  pour  sleep  on  their  head, 
And  sit  down  by  their  bed. 

W.  Blake. 


*  41  * 

WHAT   CAN  LITTLE   HANDS   DO? 

Oh,  what  can  little  hands  do 
To  please  the  King  of  heaven  ? 
The  little  hands  some  work  may  try, 
To  help  the  poor  in  misery. 

Such  grace  to  mine  be  givea ! 

Oh,  what  can  little  lips  do 
To  please  the  King  of  heaven  ? 
The  little  lips  can  praise  and  pray, 
And  gentle  words  of  kindness  say. 
Such  grace  to  mine  be  given  ! 


62  SELECT   POETRY 

*     Oh,  what  can  little  eyes  do 
To  please  the  King  of  heaven  ? 
The  little  eyes  can  upward  look, 
Can  learn  to  read  God's  holy  book. 
Such  grace  to  mine  be  given  ! 

Oh,  what  can  little  hearts  do 
To  please  the  King  of  heaven  ? 
The  hearts,  if  God  his  Spirit  send. 
Can  love  and  trust  the  children's  Friend. 
Such  grace  to  mine  be  given  ! 

Though  small  is  all  that  we  can  do 
To  please  the  King  of  heaven, 
When  hearts  and  hands  and  lips  unite 
To  serve  the  Saviour  with  delight, 
They  are  most  precious  in  his  sight. 
Such  grace  to  mine  be  given  ! 

*  42  * 
THE  MONTHS. 

January,  icy  cold, 

Leaves  a  mantle  soft  and  white ; 
February,  sharp  and  bold. 

Onward  takes  his  busy  flight. 

March's  chilly  breezes  blow, 

Still  they're  touched  by  Winter's  hand ; 
April  melts  the  frozen  snow ; 

April  sunshine  floods  the  land. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  53 

May  awakes  the  sleeping  flowel-s, 
Reigns  a  sweet  and  happy  queen ; 

With  her  coaxing  sun  and  showers 
Robes  the  trees  in  tender  green. 

June  is  bright  with  roses  gay  ; 

Harebells  bloom  around  her  feet ; 
Hot  July  rakes  new-mown  hay 

From  the  meadows  fresh  and  sweet. 

August's  pleasant,  quiet  reign 

Bids  the  meadow-lilies  come  ; 
And  September's  golden  grain 

Makes  a  welcome  harvest-home. 

Glad  October's  shining  sun 

Paints  the  leaves  in  richest  dyes ; 

And  November,  dreary  one, 
Shoots  his  arrows  as  he  flies. 

Cold  December's  latest  breath 

Makes  the  woods  and  meadows  drear, 

And  his  eyelids  close  in  death. 
As  he  ends  the  happy  year. 

Dora  Read  Goodale. 
(In  '* Apple  Blossoms.") 


■«^4ti^f5l*- 


54  SELECT  POETRY 

*  43  * 
HIGH   AND   LOW. 

.    The  showers  fall  as  softly 
Upon  the  lowly  grass 
As  on  the  stately  roses 
That  tremble  as  they  pass. 

The  sunlight  shines  as  brightly 
On  fern-leaves  bent  and  torn 

As  on  the  golden  harvest, 
The  fields  of  waving  corn. 

The  wild  birds  sing  as  sweetly 
To  rugged,  jagged  pines. 

As  to  the  blossomed  orchards, 
And  to  the  cultured  vines. 

Our  Father  looks  as  kindly 

Upon  the  lowly  poor 
As  on  the  rich  and  haughty 

Who  turn  them  from  their  door. 
Dora  Read  Good ale. 
(In  "Apple  Blossoms.") 

*  44  * 

THE  WORDS   WE   SPEAK. 

From  rosy  bowers  we  issue  forth, 
From  east  to  west,  from  south  to  north : 
Unseen,  unfelt,  by  night,  by  day. 
Abroad  we  take  our  airy  way. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  55 

We  foster  love,  and  kindle  strife,  — 
The  bitter  and  the  sweet  of  life ; 
Piercing  and  sharp,  we  wound  like  steel ; 
Now,  smooth  as  oil,  those  wounds  we  heal. 

Not  strings  of  pearl  are  valued  more, 
Nor  gems  enchased  ^  in  golden  ore ; 
Yet  thousands  of  us  every  day, 
Worthless  and  vile,  are  thrown  away. 

Ye  wise,  secure  with  bars  of  brass 
The  double  doors  through  which  we  pass ; 
For,  once  escaped,  back  to  our  cell 
No  human  art  can  us  compel. 


*  45  * 

THE   LADY  WEAVER. 

A  LADY  weaveth  at  her  loom, 

Hour  after  hour. 
With  thread  so  very  clear  and  fine. 

The  web  is  like  a  flower. 

Sometimes  the  lace  she  weaveth 
Sparkles  with  diamonds  bright ; 

Sometimes  'tis  covered  over 
With  tiny  pearls  so  white. 

*  enchased,  adorned  with  engraved  work. 


56  SELECT  POETRY 

And  though  she  weaves  so  tastefully, 

She  is  a  murderess  too, 
Who  is  the  lady  weaver  ? 

Can  you  tell  me,  children,  who  ? 


*  46  * 
PRETTY  IS  THAT  PRETTY  DOES. 

The  spider  wears  a  plain  brown  dress. 
And  she  is  a  steady  spinner ; 
To  see  her,  quiet  as  a  mouse. 
Going  about  her  silver  house. 
You  would  never,  never,  never  guess 
The  way  she  gets  her  dinner. 

She  looks  as  if  no  thought  of  ill 
In  all  her  life  had  stirred  her ; 

But  while  she  moves  with  careful  tread, 
And  while  she  spins  her  silken  thread, 
She  is  planning,  planning,  planning  still 
The  way  to  do  some  murder. 

My  child  who  reads  this  simple  lay. 

With  eyes  down-dropt  and  tender, 

Remember  the  old  proverb  says 

That  pretty  is  that  pretty  does. 

And  that  worth  does  not  go  or  stay 

For  poverty  or  splendor. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS\  §0 

*  49  * 

DUTY. 

Whene'er  you  know  a  thing  is  right, 
Go  and  do  it  with  main  ^  and  might, 

Nor  let  one  murmur  fall ; 
For  duty  makes  as  strong  a  claim 
As  if  an  angel  called  your  name. 

And  all  men  heard  the  call. 

Keep  all  the  day,  and  every  day. 
Within  the  strait  and  narrow  way, 

And  all  your  life,  in  fine  ;  ^ 
Be  temperate  in  your  moods  and  meats. 
And  in  your  sours  and  in  your  sweets. 

And,  lastly,  don't  drink  wine ! 

*  50  * 
BY-AND-BY. 

There  is  a  little  mischief-making 

Elfin  ^  who  is  ever  nigh, 
Thwarting  ^  every  undertaking ; 

And  his  name  is  By-and-By. 

What  we  ought  to  do  this  minute 
"  Will  be  better  done,"  he'll  cry, 

"  If  to-morrow  we  begin  it :  " 
"  Put  it  off,"  says  By-and-By. 

1  main,  strength.    '  Main  and  might'  are  twin  synonyms. 

2  in  fine,  to  sum  up  all.       a  elfint  a  fairy.       *  thwarting,  frustrating. 


-60  SELECT  POETRY 

Those  who  heed  the  treacherous  wooing  ^ 
Will  his  faithless  guidance  rue ;  ^ 

"What  we  always  put  off  doing 
Clearly  we  shall  never  do. 

We  shall  reach  what  we  endeavor, 

If  on  Now  we  more  rely ; 
But  unto  the  realms  ^  of  Never 

Leads  the  pilot  By-and-By. 

*  51  * 

THE  HONEST  BIRD. 

Once  on  a  time  a  little  bird 
Within  a  wicker  cage  was  heard, 
In  mournful  tones,  these  words  to  smg : 
"  In  vain  I  stretch  my  useless  wing ; 
Still  round  and  round  I  vainly  fly. 
And  strive  in  vain  for  liberty. 
Dear  Liberty,  how  sweet  thou  art !  " 
The  prisoner  sings  with  breaking  heart : 
"  All  other  things  I'd  give  for  thee, 
Nor  ask  one  joy  but  liberty." 

He  sang  so  sweet,  a  little  mouse. 
That  often  ran  about  the  house, 
Came  to  his  cage.     Her  cunning  ear 
She  turns,  the  mournful  bird  to  hear. 
Soon  as  he  ceased,  "  Suppose,"  said  she, 
"  I  could  contrive  to  set  you  free. 
Would  you  those  pretty  wings  give  me  ?  " 

*  wooing,  aoliciting.        2  ^ug^  i)^  ggrry  for.        *  realm,  kingdom. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  61 

The  cage  was  in  the  window  seat; 

The  sky  was  bine,  the  air  was  sweet. 

The  bird  in  eagerness  replied, 

'^  Oh,  yes  I  my  wings,  and  see,  beside, 

These  seeds  and  apples,  and  sugar  too  !  — 

All,  pretty  mouse,  I'll  give  to  you. 

If  you  will  only  set  me  free ; 

For,  oh  !  I  pant  for  liberty." 

The  mouse  soon  gnawed  a  hole.     The  bird, 
In  ecstasy,  forgot  his  word ; 
Swift  as  an  arrow,  see,  he  flies. 
Far  up,  far  up,  towards  the  skies ; 
But  see  !  he  stops,  now  he  descends. 
Towards  the  cage  his  course  he  bends. 

"Kind  mouse,"  said  he,  "behold  me  now 
Returned  to  keep  my  foolish  vow. 
I  only  longed  for  freedom  then. 
Nor  thought  to  want  my  wings  again. 
Better  with  life  itself  to  part 
Than  living  have  a  faithless  heart  : 
Do  with  me,  therefore,  as  you  will, 
An  honest  bird  I  will  be  still." 

His  heart  seemed  full,  no  more  he  said ; 
He  drooped  his  wing,  and  hung  his  head. 
The  mouse,  though  very  pert  and  smart, 
Had  yet  a  very  tender  heart. 
She  minced  a  little,  turned  about, 
Then  thus  her  sentiments  spoke  out :  — 


62  SELECT  POETRY 

%. 
"  I  don't  care  much  about  your  wings : 
Apples  and  cakes  are  better  things. 
You  love  the  clouds,  I  choose  the  house ; 
Wings  would  look  queer  upon  a  mouse ; 
My  nice  long  tail  is  better  far : 
So  keep  your  wings  just  where  they  are.' 

She  minced  ^  some  apples,  gave  a  smack, 
Then  ran  into  a  little  crack. 
The  bird  spread  out  his  wings,  and  flew, 
And  vanished  in  the  sky's  deep  blue ; 
Far  up  his  joyful  song  he  poured, 
And  sang  of  freedom  as  he  soared. 

*  52  * 

DAYBREAK. 

See  the  day  begins  to  break. 
And  the  light  shoots  like  a  streak 
Of  subtle  ^  fire  ;  the  wind  blows  cold 
While  the  morning  doth  unfold ; 
Now  the  birds  begin  to  rouse, 
And  the  squirrel  from  the  boughs 
Leaps,  to  get  him  nuts  and  fruit ; 
The  early  lark,  that  erst  ^  was  mute, 
Carols  in  the  rising  day 
Many  a  note  and  many  a  lay. 

J.  Fletcher. 

1  minced,  nibbled.  »  subtle,  rare,  delicate. 

8  erst,  before,  till  now. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  63 

*  53  * 
CHOICE   STANZAS. 


He  prayeth  best  who  loveth  best 
All  things  both  great  and  small ; 

For  the  dear  God  who  loveth  us, 
He  made  and  loveth  all. 

S.  T.  Coleridge. 

*** 

If  Wisdom's  ways  you'd  wisely  seek, 
Five  things  observe  with  care, — 

Of  whom  you  speak,  to  whom  you  speak. 
And  hoWy  and  when,  and  where. 


The  bird  that  soars  on  highest  wing 

Builds  on  the  ground  her  lowly  nest; 
And  she  that  doth  most  sweetly^ sing 
Sings  in  the  shade  when  all  things  rest. 
In  lark  and  nightingale  we  see 
What  honor  hath  humility. 

J.  Montgomery.  ■ 

Tiny  threads  make  up  the  web, 
Little  acts  make  up  life's  span : 

Would  you  ever  happy  be. 

Spin  them  rightly  while  you  can. 

When  the  thread  is  broken  quite. 

Too  late  then  to  spin  aright. 


64  SELECT  POETRY 


Be  not  false,  unkind,  or  cruel ; 
Banish  evil  words  and  strife ; 
Keep  thy  heart  a  temple  holy ; 
Love  the  lovely,  aid  the  lowly : 
Thus  shall  each  day  be  a  jewel 
Strung  upon  thy  thread  of  life. 


Howe'ee  it  be,  it  seems  to  me 

'Tis  only  noble  to  be  good ; 
Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets, 

And  simple  faith  than  Norman  blood. 

Alfred  Tennyson. 
*  * 

The  best  revenge  is  love  :  —  disarm 

Anger  with  smiles ;  heal  wounds  with  balm ; 

Give  water  to  thy  thirsting  foe  : 
The  sandal-tree,  as  if  to  prove 
How  sweBt  to  conquer  hate  by  love. 
Perfumes  the  axe  that  lays  it  low. 

S.  C.  Wilkes. 
*** 
If  e'er  in  doing  aught,  you  dread 

Disgrace,  if  others  know  it. 
Then,  dearest  child,  the  only  way 
Is  for  you  not  to  4J0  it. 


TiiKiiE's  a  tone  in  the  deep 

Like  the  niurnuiriiig  breath  of  a  lion  asleep. 

Eliza  Cook. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  ^b 

*  54  * 

AN   HONEST   NAME. 

Though  many  be  more  rich  than  we 
In  all  this  great  world's  wealth  by  far, 

We  may  possess  a  name  no  less 
In  worth  than  gold  or  rubies  are. 

However  hard  our  lot,  we'll  guard 
This  treasure  ;  for  how  great  the  loss. 

To  lose  our  name  and  honest  fame, 
And  only  gain  a  little  dross !  ^ 

Though  on  this  earth  all  pomp  of  birth 
And  worldly  riches  may  decay. 

Yet  every  man,  if  honest,  can 

Have  wealth  that  none  may  take  away. 

*  55  * 

SPRING-TIME. 

The  Spring  is  come  ;  the  Spring  is  come ! 

The  brooks  are  merrily  pouring  ; 
And  the  lambs  are  here,  and  the  swallows  appear, 

And  the  lark  aloft  is  soaring. 

Old  Winter  is  gone  ;  old  Winter  is  gone ! 

And,  pray,  what  prevented  his  stay  ? 
Why,  March  was  his  bane ;  ^  and  the  April  rain 

Has  driven  him  quite  away. 

1  dross,  worthless  matter,  here  gold.  2  jjane,  harm. 


66  SELECT  POETRY 

Look  at  the  birds,  the  dear  little  birds ! 

They're  singing  on  every  bough, 
And  strain  their  throats  with  the  blithest  notes 

To  rejoice  in  the  sweet  Spring  now. 

Come  to  the  fields,  away  to  the  fields ! 

We've  lingered  at  home  too  long : 
The  sheep-bells  ring  as  the  bright  birds  sing, 

And  the  streamlet  murmurs  a  song. 

Never  forget,  child,  never  forget. 

Who  it  was  made  the  world  so  fair. 
Who  with  flowers  and  trees,  and  mountains  and 
seas. 
Made  it  beautiful  everywhere. 

From  the  German. 

*  56  * 
LAPLAND. 

44  With  blue,  cold  nose,  and  wrinkled  brow, 

Traveller,  whence  comest  thou?" 

"  From  Lapland's  woods  and  hills  of  frost 

By  the  rapid  reindeer  crossed ; 

Where  tapering  grows  the  gloomy  fir 

And  the  stunted  juniper ; 

Where  the  wild  hare  and  the  crow 

Whiten  in  surrounding  snow  ; 

Where  the  shivering  huntsmen  tear 

His  fur  coat  from  the  grim,  white  bear ; 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  67 

Where  the  wolf  and  arctic  fox 
Prowl  along  the  lonely  rocks, 
And  tardy  suns  to  deserts  drear, 
Give  days  and  nights  of  half  a  year ;  ^ 
From  icy  oceans,  where  the  whale 
Tosses  in  foam  his  lashing  tail ; 
Where  the  snorting  sea-horse  ^  shows 
His  ivory  teeth  in  grinning  rows ; 
Where,  tumbling  in  their  seal-skin  boat. 
Fearless  the  hungry  fishers  float. 
And  from  teeming  ^  seas  supply 
The  food  their  niggard*  plains  deny." 

Miss  Aiken. 

*  57  * 

PUSSY'S   CLASS. 

"Now,  children,"  said  Puss,  as  she  shook  her  head, 
"  It  is  time  your  morning  lesson  was  said." 
So  her  kittens  drew  near,  with  footsteps  slow, 
And  sat^down  before  her,  all  in  a  row. 

"  Attention,  class  !  "  said  the  cat-mamma, 
"  And  tell  me  quick  where  your  noses  are." 
At  this  all  the  kittens  sniffed  the  air. 
As  if  it  were  filled  with  a  perfume  ^  rare. 

1  Far  up  in  the  arctic  region  the  8un  does  not  set  for  six  months,  and 
then  coraes  a  night  of  six  months. 

2  sea-horse,  the  walrus.  *  niggard,  barren. 

8  teeming,  full  of  fish.  ^  perfume,  a  sweet  odor. 


68  SELECT  POETRY 

"Now,  what   do   you  say  when   you  want   some 

drink?" 
The  kittens, waited  a  moment  to  think, 
And  then  the  answer  came,  clear  and  loud  — 
Yon  ought  to  have  heard  how  those  kittens  meow'd ! 

''  Very  well !    'Tis  the  same,  with  a  sharper  tone, 
When  you  want  some  fish,  or  a  bit  of  bone. 
Now  what  do  you  say  when  children  are  good?" 
And  the  kittens  purred  as  soft  as  they  could. 

"  And  what  do  you  do  when  children  are  bad  ?  — 
When  they  tease  and  pull  ?  "     Each  kitty  looked 

sad. 
"Pooh!  "  said  their  mother,  "that  isn't  enough; 
You  must  use  your  claws  when  children  are  rough. 

"  And  where  are  your  claws  ?     No,  no,  my  dear  !  " 
(As  she  took  up  a  paw),  "  see,  they're  hidden  here." 
Then  all  the  kittens  crowded  about 
To  see  their  sharp  little  claws  brought  out. 

"  Now,  '  Sptss  '  as  hard  as  you  can,"  she  said ; 

But  every  kitten  hung  down  its  head. 

"  '  Sjytss  ! '  I  say,"  cried  the  mother-cat, 

But  they  sail,  "  O  mamma,  we  can't  do  that! " 

"  Then  go  and  play,"  said  the  fond  mamma : 
"  What  sweet  little  idiots  kittens  are ! 
All  well!  I  was  once  []\v  saiiic,  I  suppose," 
And  she  looked  very  wise,  and  rub])ed  her  nose. 

Maiiy  Matks  Doi>oe. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS,  69 

*  58  * 
RANGER. 

A  LITTLE  boat  in  a  cave, 

And  a  child  there,  fast  asleep, 
Floating  out  on  a  wave, 

Out  to  the  perilous  deep  ; 
Out  to  the  living  waters 

That  brightly  dance  and  gleam, 
And  dash  their  foam  about  him, 

To  wake  him  from  his  dream. 

He  rubs  his  pretty  eyes, 

He  shakes  his  curly  head. 
And  says,  with  great  surprise, 

"  Why,  I'm  not  asleep  in  bed !  " 
—  The  boat  is  rising  and  sinking 

Over  the  sailors'  graves  ; 
And  he  laughs  out,  "  Isn't  it  nice 

Playing  see-saw  with  the  waves  ?  " 

Alas  !  he  little  thinks 

Of  the  grief  on  the  far-off  sands. 
Where  his  mother  trembles  and  shrinks. 

And  his  sister  wrings  her  hands. 
Watching  in  speechless  terror 

The  boat  and  the  flaxen  head. 
Is  there  no  hope  of  succor  ? 

Must  they  see  him  drowned  and  dead  ? 

They  see  him  living  now,  — 
Living,  and  jnnipii)g  about; 


70  SELECT  POETRY 

He  stands  on  the  giddy  prow, 
With  a  merry  laugh  and  shout. 

Oh,  spare  him !  spare  him  !  spare  him  ! 
Spare  him,  thou  cruel  deep  ! 

—  The  child  is  swept  from  the  prow. 
And  the  wild  waves  dance  and  leap. 

They  run  to  the  edge  of  the  shore, 

They  stretch  their  arms  to  him ; 
Knee-deep  they  wade,  and  more ; 

But  alas  !  they  cannot  swim. 
Their  pretty,  pretty  darling ! 

His  little  hat  floats  by  ; 
They  see  his  frightened  face, 

They  hear  his  drowning  cry. 

Something  warm  and  strong 

Dashes  before  them  then. 
Hairy  and  curly  and  long. 

And  brave  as  a  dozen  men ; 
Bounding,  panting,  gasping. 

Rushing  straight  as  a  dart ; 
Ready  to  die  in  the  cause,  — 

A  dog  with  a  loyal  heart ! 

He  fights  with  the  fighting  sea, 
He  grandly  wins  his  prize  ; 

Mother  !  he  brings  it  thee 
With  triumph  in  his  eyes. 

He  brings  it  thee,  O  mother  ! 
His  burden,  pretty  and  pale ; 


FOR    YOUNG   FOLKS.  Tl 

He  lays  it  down  at  thy  feet, 
And  wags  his  honest  old  tail. 

O  dog  so  faithful  and  bold ! 

O  dog  so  tender  and  true  I 
You  shall  wear  a  collar  of  gold, 

And  a  crown,  if  you  like  it,  too. 
O  Ranger !  in  love  and  honor, 

Your  name  shall  be  handed  down, 
And  children's  hearts  shall  beat 

At  the  story  of  your  renown  ! 

Poems  fok  a  Child. 

*  59  * 
GRANDPAPA. 

Geandpapa's  hair  is  very  white, 
And  grandpapa  walks  but  slow  ; 

He  likes  to  sit  still  in  his  easy-chair 
While  the  children  come  and  go. 

"  Hush  !  play  quietly,"  says  mamma ; 

"  Let  nobody  trouble  dear  grandpapa." 

Grandpapa's  hand  is  thin  and  weak. 
It  has  worked  hard  all  his  days,  — 

A  strong  right  hand,  and  an  honest  hand,     • 
That  has  won  all  good  men's  praise. 

"  Kiss  it  tenderly,"  says  mamma  ; 

"  Let  every  one  honor  grandpapa." 

Grandpapa's  eyes  are  growing  dim, 

They  have  looked  on  sorrow  and  death ; 


72  SELECT  POETRY 

But  the  love-light  never  went  out  of  them, 

Nor  the  courage  and  the  faith. 
"  You,  children,  all  of  you,"  says  mamma, 
"  Have  need  to  look  up  to  dear  grandpapa." 

Grandpapa's  years  are  wearing  few. 
But  he  leaves  a  blessing  behind,  — 

A  good  life  lived  and  a  good  tight  fought, 
True  heart  and  equal  ^  mind. 

"  Remember,  my  children,"  says  mamma, 

"  You  bear  the  name  of  your  grandpapa." 

Dinah  Mcloch  Cbaik. 

•  *  60  * 
A   CHILD'S   EVENING   HYMN. 

How  beautiful  the  setting  sun  ! 

The  clouds,  how  bright  and  gay ! 
The  stars,  appearing  one  by  one, 

How  beautiful  are  they  I 

And  when  the  moon  climbs  up  the  sky, 

And  sheds  her  gentle  light. 
And  hangs  her  crystal  ^  lamp  on  high, 

How  beautiful  is  night ! 

And  can  it  be  I  am  possessed 
Of  somethmg  brighter  far? 
Gh)ws  there  a  light  within  this  breast 
Outshining  every  star? 

*  equal,  not  variable,  even.         «  crystal,  bright  like  a  clear  kind  of  glass. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  73 

Yes;  should  the  sun  and  stars  turn  pale, 

The  mountains  melt  away, 
This  flame  within  shall  never  fail. 

But  live  in  endless  day. 

This  is  the  soul  that  God  has  given ; 

Sin  may  its  lustre  ^  dim. 
While  goodness  bears  it  up  to  heaven. 

And  leads  it  back  to  Him. 

Mrs.  Follen. 

*  61  * 

CHILD-FAITH. 

By  Alpine  lake,  'neath  shady  rock. 
The  herd-boy  knelt  beside  his  flock, 
And  softly  told,  with  pious  air. 
His  A,  B,  C,  as  evening  prayer. 

Unseen,  the  pastor  lingered  near ; 

"  My  child,  what  means  the  sound  I  hear  ?  " 

"  Where'er  the  hills  and  valleys  blend. 
The  sound  of  prayer  and  praise  ascend  ; 
Must  I  not  in  the  worship  share. 
And  raise  to  Heaven  my  evening  prayer  ?  " 

"  My  child,  a  prayer  that  ne'er  can  be  :    - 
You  have  but  ^  said  your  A,  B,  C." 

*  lustre,  brightness.  2  lui^  only. 


74  SELECT  POETRY 

"  I  have  no  better  Wcay  to  pray, 

But  all  I  know  to  God  I  say ; 

I  tell  the  letters  on  my  knees, 

And  He'll  make  words  Himself  to  please." 

S.  W.  Lander.  —  From  the  German. 

*  62  * 
THE  OLD  PROVERB. 

"  The  boy  is  father  to  the  man :  " 

Such  talk  sounds  very  queer  to  me  ; 
But  I  suppose  they  mean  to  say. 

If  I  a  true,  brave  man  would  be, 
I  must  not  be  a  sneaking  boy, 

But  ill  my  work,  or  in  my  play, 
Whatever  I  may  say  or  do. 

Be  true  and  honest  as  the  day. 

"  The  boy  is  father  to  the  man :  " 

I  wonder  how  it  is  with  girls ! 
If  all  they  care  for  is  to  be 

Pretty  and  fair,  with  glossy  curls, 
And  handsome  dresses,  will  they  grow 

To  noble  women,  good  and  true  ? 
Or  will  they  be  like  pretty  dolls. 

Which  please  us  for  an  hour  or  two  ? 

"  The  boy  is  father  to  the  man :  " 

Then,  boys  and  girls,  suppose  we  look 

For  the  best  pattern  we  can  find. 
And  take  him  for  our  copy-book. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  75 

Then,  looking  backward,  we  may  see 
A  pleasant  pathway  dear  and  bright, 

And,  looking  forward,  we  may  hope 
To  reach  the  World  of  Light. 

Effie  Johnson. 


*  63  * 

DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY. 

I. 
Daffy-down-dilly 

Came  up  in  the  cold, 

Through  the  brown  mould, 
Although  the  March  breezes 

Blew  keen  on  her  face, 
Although  the  white  snow 

Lay  on  many  a  place. 

Daffy-down-dilly 

Had  heard  under  ground 

The  sweet  rushing  sound 
Of  the  streams,  as  they  broke 

From  their  white  winter  chains, 
Of  the  whistling  spring  winds. 

And  the  pattering  rains. 

"  Now,  then,"  thought  Daffy^ 
Deep  down  in  her  heart, 
"It's  time  I  should  start." 


76  SELECT  POETRY 

So  she  pushed  her  soft  leaves 

Through  the  hard  frozen  ground, 

Quite  up  to  the  surface, 
And  then  she  looked  round. 

There  was  snow  all  about  her, 

Gray  clouds  overhead ; 

The  trees  all  looked  dead : 
Then  how  do  you  think 

Poor  Daffy-down  felt, 
When  the  sun  would  not  shine. 

And  the  ice  would  not  melt  ? 

II. 

"  Cold  weather !  "  thought  Daffy,' 

Still  working  away ; 

"  The  earth's  hard  to-day ! 
There's  but  a  half  inch 

Of  my  leaves  to  be  seen, 
And  two  thirds  of  that 

Is  more  yellow  than  green. 

"  I  can't  do  much  yet  ; 

But  I'll  do  what  I  can : 

It's  well  I  began  ! 
For,  unless  I  can  manage 

To  lift  up  my  head, 
The  people  will  think 

That  the  Spring  herself's  dead." 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  77 

So,  little  by  little, 

She  brought  her  leaves  out, 

All  clustered  about ; 
And  then  her  bright  flowers 

Began  to  unfold, 
Till  Daffy  stood  robed 

In  her  spring  green  and  gold. 

O  Daffy-do wn-dilly. 

So  brave  and  so  true ! 

I  wish  all  were  like  you !  — 
So  ready  for  duty 

In  all  sorts  of  weather, 
And  loyal  to  courage 

And  duty  together. 

MlS9  "Wakneb. 

*  04  * 
DOING  GOOD. 

What  if  a  drop  of  rain  should  plead, 

"  So  small  a  drop  as  I 
Can  ne'er  refresh  the  thirsty  mead,^ 

I'll  tarry  in  the  sky  "  ? 

What  if  a  single  beam  of  noon 

Should  in  its  fountain  stay, 
Because  its  feeble  light  alone 

Cannot  create  a  day? 

»  mead,  meadow. 


78  SELECT  POETRY 

Does  not  each  rain-drop  help  to  form 
The  cool  refreshing  shower  ? 

And  every  ray  of  light  to  warm 
And  beautify  ^  the  flower  ? 

Go,  thou,  and  strive  to  do  thy  share ; 

One  talent,  —  less  than  thine,  — 
Improved  with  steady  zeal  ani  care, 

Would  gain  rewards  divine. 

*  65  * 

THE  RIVER. 

RiVEE,  River,  little  River ! 
Bright  you  sparkle  on  your  way, 
O'er  the  yellow  pebbles  dancing. 
Through  the  flowers  and  foliage  ^  glancing, 
Like  a  child  at  play. 

River,  River,  swelling  River ! 
On  you  rush  o'er  rough  and  smooth,  — 
Louder,  faster,  brawling,  leaping 
Over  rocks,  by  meadows  sweeping, — 
Like  impetuous  ^  youth. 

River,  River,  brimming  River ! 
Broad  and  deep,  and  still  as  time, 

1  beautify,  make  beautiful.  ^  foliage,  green  leaves. 

»  impetuous,  hasty,  violent. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS.  79 

Seeming  stilly  yet  still  in  motion, 
Tending  onward  to  the  ocean, 

Just  like  mortal  prime.^ 

River,  River,  rapid  River ! 
Swifter  now  you  slip  away,  — 
Swift  and  silent  as  an  arrow, 
Through  a  channel  dark  and  narrow. 
Like  life's  closing  day. 

River,  River,  headlong  River ! 
Down  you  dash  into  the  sea,  — 
Sea,  that  line  hath  never  sounded. 
Sea,  that  voyage  hath  never  rounded,^ 
Like  Eternity. 


THE  WORLD. 

Geeat,  wide,  beautiful,  wonderful  World, 
With  the  wonderful  water  around  you  curled, 
And  the  wonderful  grass  on  your  breast  — 
World,  you  are  beautifully  dressed. 

The  wonderful  air  is  over  me. 
And  the  wonderful  wind  is  shaking  the  tree ; 
It  walks  on  the  water,  and  whirls  the  mills. 
And  talks  to  itself  on  the  tops  of  the  hills. 

1  mortal  prime,  man  in  bis  prime. 

2  rounded,  crossed  and  returned. 


80  SELECT  POETRY 

You  friendly  Earth,  how  far  do  you  go, 

With  the  wheat-fields   that   nod,  and  the   rivers 

that  flow. 
With  cities,  and  gardens,  and  cliffs,  and  isles, 
And  people  upon  you  for  thousands  of  miles  ? 

Ah !  you  are  so  great,  and  I  am  so  small, 

I  tremble  to  think  of  you.  World,  at  all ; 

And  yet,  when  I  said  my  prayers  to-day, 

A  whisper  inside  me  seemed  to  say, 

"You  are  more  than  the  Earth,  though  you  are 

such  a  dot : 
You  can  love  and  think,  and  the  Earth  cannot !  " 

Matthew  Browne. 

*  67  * 
A  LITTLE  GIRL'S  FANCIES. 

O  LITTLE  flowers,  you  love  me  so, 

You  could  not  do  without  me ; 
O  little  birds  that  come  and  go, 

You  sing  sweet  songs  about  me ; 
O  little  moss,  observed  ^  by  few. 

That  round  the  tree  is  creeping, 
You  like  my  head  to  rest  on  you 

When  I  am  idly  sleeping. 

O  rushes  by  the  river  side. 

You  bow  when  I  come  near  you ; 

1  observed,  noticed. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS.  85 

*  70  * 
RAIN  IN   SUMMER. 

O  GENTLE,  gentle  summer  rain, 

Let  not  the  silver  lily  pine, 
The  drooping  lily  pine  in  vain. 

To  feel  that  dewy  touch  of  thine, 
To  drink  thy  freshness  once  again, 
O  gentle,  gentle  summer  rain ! 

In  heat  the  landscape  quivering  lies ; 

The  cattle  pant  beneath  the  tree ; 
Through  parching  air  and  purple  skies 

The  Earth  looks  up  in  vain  for  thee ; 
For  thee,  for  thee,  it  looks  in  vain, 
O  gentle,  gentle  summer  rain  ! 

Come,  thou,  and  brim  the  meadow  streams, 
And  soften  all  the  hills  with  mist, 

O  falling  dew !  from  burning  dreams 
By  thee  shall  herb  and  flower  be  kissed ; 

And  Earth  shall  bless  thee  yet  again, 

O  gentle,  gentle  summer  rain ! 

W.  C.  Bennett. 

*  71  * 
AFTER  A   STORM. 

With  a  freshness  and  sweetness 

The  air  is  made  new; 
The  birds  are  all  singing ; 

The  skies  are  all  blue ; 


86  SELECT  POETRY 

The  flowers  have  uplifted 

Their  petals  ^  again  ; 
And  the  meadows  grow  green 

At  the  touch  of  the  rain. 

Dora  Read  Goodale. 
(In  ^'ApiJle  Blossoms.'*) 

*  72  * 
SEVEN  TIMES   ONE.  — EXULTATION. 

There's  no  dew  left  on  the  daisies  and  clover, 

There's  no  rain  left  in  heaven ; 
I've  said  my  "  seven  times  "  over  and  over  — 

Seven  times  one  are  seven. 

I  am  old !   so  old  I  can  write  a  letter ; 

My  birthday  lessons  are  done : 
The  lambs  play  always,  they  know  no  better ; 

They  are  only  one  times  one. 

0  Moon !  in  the  night  I  have  seen  you  sailing, 
And  shining  so  round  and  low  ; 

You  were  bright !  ah,  bright !  but  your  light  is 
failing ; 
You  are  nothing  now  but  a  bow. 

You  Moon !  have  you  done  something  wrong  in 
heaven. 
That  God  has  hidden  your  face  ? 

1  hope,  if  you  have,  you  will  soon  be  forgiven, 

And  shine  again  in  your  place. 

*  petals,  leaves. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  87 

O  velvet  Bee  I  you're  a  dusty  fellow, 
You've  powdered  your  legs  with  gold ; 

O  brave  marsh  Mary-buds,  rich  and  yellow ! 
Give  me  your  money  to  hold. 

O  Columbine  !  open  your  folded  wrapper 
Where  two  twin  turtle-doves  dwell ; 

0  Cuckoo-pint !  toll  me  the  purple  clapper, 
That  hangs  in  your  clear,  green  bell. 

And  show  me  your  nest  with  the  young  ones  in  it — 
I  will  not  steal  them  away, 

1  am  old  !  you  may  trust  me.  Linnet,  Linnet,  — 
I  am  seven  times  one  to-day. 

Jean  Ingelow. 


*  73  * 

HIAWATHA'S   HUNTING. 

Then  the  little  Hiawatha 
Learned  of  every  bird  its  language. 
Learned  their  names  and  all  their  secrets. 
How  they  built  their  nests  in  summer. 
Where  they  hid  themselves  in  winter ; 
Talked  with  them  where'er  he  met  them, 
Called  them  "  Hiawatha's  Chickens." 

Of  all  beasts  he  learned  the  language. 
Learned  their  names  and  all  their  secrets,  - 
How  the  beavers  built  their  lodges. 


88  SELECT  POETRY 

Where  the  squirrels  hid  their  acorns, 
How  the  reindeer  ran  so  swiftly, 
Why  the  rabbit  was  so  timid ; 
Talked  with  them^  where'er  he  met  them, 
Called  them  "  Hiawatha's  Brothers." 

Then  lagoo,  the  great  boaster. 
He,  the  marvellous  story-teller. 
He,  the  traveller  and  the  talker, 
Made  a  bow  for  Hiawatha ; 
From  a  branch  of  ash  he  made  it ; 
From  an  oak  bough  made  the  arrows, 
Tipped  with  flint,  and  winged  with  feathers 
And  the  cord  he  made  of  deer-skin. 

Then  he  said  to  Hiawatha : 
"  Go,  my  son,  into  the  forest. 
Where  the  red  deer  herd  together ; 
Kill  for  us  a  famous  roebuck. 
Kill  for  us  a  deer  with  antlers."  ^ 

Forth  into  the  forest  straightway 
All  alone  walked  Hiawatha 
Proudly,  with  his  bow  and  arrows; 
And  the  birds  sang  round  him,  o'er  him, 
"  Do  not  shoot  us,  Hiawatha !  " 
Sang  the  robin,  sang  the  bluebird, 
"■  Do  not  shoot  us,  Hiawatha !  " 

Up  the  oak-tree,  close  beside  him. 
Sprang  the  squirrel,  lightly  leaping 

antlers,  branches  of  a  stag's  horn. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  89 

In  and  out  among- the  branches ; 
Coughed  and  chattered  from  the  oak-tree, 
Laughed,  and  said  between  his  laughing, 
"  Do  not  shoot  me,  Hiawatha !  " 

And  the  rabbit  from  his  pathway 
Leaped  aside,  and  at  a  distance 
Sat  erect  upon  his  haunches. 
Half  in  fear,  and  half  in  frolic. 
Saying  to  the  little  hunter, 
"  Do  not  shoot  me,  Hiawatha !  " 

But  he  heeded  not,  nor  heard  them. 
For  his  thoughts  were  with  the  red  deer ; 
On  their  tracks  his  eyes  were  fastened. 
Leading  downward  to  the  river. 
To  the  ford  across  the  river. 
And  as  one  in  slumber  walked  he. 

Hidden  in  the  alder  bushes. 
There  he  waited  till  the  deer  came, 
Till  he  saw  two  antlers  lifted. 
Saw  two  eyes  look  from  the  thicket. 
Saw  two  nostrils  point  to  windward. 
And  a  deer  came  down  the  pathway. 
Flecked  with  leafy  light  and  shadow. 
And  his  heart  within  him  fluttered. 
Trembled  like  the  leaves  above  him. 
Like  the  birch  leaf  palpitated,^ 
As  the  deer  came  down  the  pathway. 

1  palpitated,  throbbed,  fluttered. 


90  SELECT  POETRY 

Then,  upon  one  knee  ^uprising, 

Hiawatha  aimed  an  arrow ; 

Scarce  a  twig  moved  with  his  motion, 

Scarce  a  leaf  was  stirred  or  rustled ; 

But  the  wary  roebUck  started. 

Stamped  with  all  his  hoofs  together, 

Listened  with  one  foot  uplifted, 

Leaped  as  if  to  meet  the  arrow ; 

Ah,  the  singing,  fatal  arrow ! 

Like  a  wasp,  it  buzzed,  and  stung  him. 

Dead  he  lay  there  in  the  forest. 
By  the  ford  across  the  river ; 
Beat  his  timid  heart  no  longer : 
But  the  heart  of  Hiawatha 
Throbbed  and  shouted  and  exulted 
As  he  bore  the  red  deer  homeward. 

H.  W.  Longfellow. 

*  74  * 
GOD'S  LOVE  FOR  ALL. 

God  made  the  pleasant  summer. 
The  fruits  that  round  us  fall. 

The  sunny  skies,  the  streams,  the  birds,  - 
God  made  them  for  us  all. 

He  did  not  make  the  sunbeams  gild 

Alone  the  rich  man's  door ; 
Oh,  no !     He  blessed  with  light  alike 

The  wealthy  and  the  poor. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  91 

He  made  the  pretty  flowers 
.   To  blossom  wild  and  free  ; 
He  did  not  make  them  that  the  great 
Alone  their  smiles  should  see. 

Oh,  no  !     He  made  them  for  us  all, 

To  bless  this  land  of  ours ; 
And,  more  than  that,  He  gave  us  love 

Wherewith  to  love  the  flowers. 

Yes,  God  upon  his  children  smiles, 

No  matter  when  or  where ; 
He  sees  them  in  the  pleasant  fields. 

And  smiles  upon  them  there. 

Alike  for  all  His  love  descends, 

No  matter  what  their  lot,  — 
The  wealthy  in  their  stately  halls, 

The  peasant  ^  in  his  cot. 


*  75  * 
SUNSHINE   AND   SHOWER. 

I. 
Two  children  stood  at  their  father's  gate,  — 

Two  girls  with  golden  hair ; 
And  their  eyes  were  bright,  and  their  voices  glad, 

Because  the  morn  was  fair. 
For  they  said,  ''•  We  will  take  that  long,  long  walk 

To  the  hawthorn  copse  ^  to-day, 

1  peciHdnt,  poor  man.  2  copse,  a  wood  of  small  growth. 


92  SELECT  POETRY 

And  gather  great  bunches  of  lovely  flowers 

From  off  the  scented  may ;  ^ 
And  oh  !  we  shall  be  so  happy  there, 

'Twill  be  sorrow  to  come  away." 

As  the  children  spoke,  a  little  cloud 

Passed  slowly  across  the  sky ; 
And  one  looked  up  in  her  sister's  face 

With  a  tear-drop  in  her  eye. 
But  the  other  said,  "  Oh  !  heed  it  not ; 

'Tis  far  too  fair  to  rain ; 
That  little  cloud  may  search  the  sky 

For  other  clouds  in  vain." 
And  soon  the  children's  voices  rose 

In  merriment  again. 

But,  ere  the  morning  hours  had  waned, 

The  sky  had  changed  its  hue. 
And  that  one  cloud  had  chased  away 

The  whole  great  heaven  of  blue. 
The  rain  fell  down  in  heavy  drops  ; 

The  wind  began  to  blow ; 
And  the  children,  in  their  nice  warm  room. 

Went  fretting  to  and  fro ; 
For  they  said,  "  When  we  have  aught  in  store,^ 

It  always  happens  so." 

II. 

Now  these  two  fair-haired  sisters 
Had  a  brother  out  at  sea,  — 

1  VKiij,  liiiwtlioni  lilossoni  (of  Nfay). 

2  avrjht  in  »t(ire,  i-ny  thins;  pioasant  to  do. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  93 

A  little  midsliipman  ^  aboard 

The  gallant  "Victory ;  " 
And  on  that  self-same  morning 

When  they  stood  beside  the  gate, 
His  ship  was  wrecked,  and  on  a  raft 

He  stood  all  desolate, 
With  the  other  sailors  round  him, 

Prepared  to  meet  their  fate. 

Beyond,  they  saw  the  cool  green  land,  — 

The  land  with  its  waving  trees. 
And  the  little  brooks  that  rise  and  fall 

Like  butterflies  to  the  breeze  ; 
And  above  them  the  burning  noontide  sun 

With  scorching  stillness  shone  ; 
Their  throats  were  parched  with  bitter  thirst, 

And  they  knelt  down  one  by  one, 
Praying  to  God  for  a  drop  of  rain. 

And  a  gale  to  waft  them  on. 

Just  then  that  little  cloud  was  sent,  — 

That  shower  in  mercy  given ; 
And,  as  a  bird  before  the  breeze. 

Their  bark  was  landward  driven. 
Now,  some  fcAV  mornings  after, 

When  the  children  met  once  more, 
And  their  brother  told  the  story. 

They  knew  it  was  the  hour 
When  they  had  wished  for  sunshine, 

And  God  had  sent  the  shower. 

*  midshipman,  a  naval  officer  lower  in  rank  than  a  lieutenant. 


94  SELECT  POETRY 

*  76  * 

MOTES   IN  THE   SUNBEAMS. 

The  motes  up  and  down  in  the  sun 
Ever  restlessly  moving  we  see ; 

Whereas  the  great  mountains  stand  still, 
Unless  terrible  earthquakes  there  be. 

If  these  atoms  that  move  up  and  down 
Were  useful  as  restless  they  are, 

Than  a  mountain  I  rather  would  be 
A  mote  in  the  sunbeam  so  fair. 

Charles  and  Mary  Lamb. 

(In  *'  Poetry  for  Children.^*) 

*  77   * 

BOYS'   PLAY  AND   GIRLS'   PLAY. 

"  Now,  let's  have  a  game  of  play,  — 
Lucy,  Jane,  and  little  May,  — 
I  will  be  a  grizzly  bear. 
Prowling  here  and  prowling  there, 
Snifiing  round  and  round  about. 
Till  I  find  you  children  out ; 
And  my  dreadful  den  shall  be 
Deep  within  the  hollow  tree." 

"  Oh,  no !  please  not,  Robert  dear ; 

Do  not  be  a  grizzly  bear ! 

Little  May  was  half  afraid 

When  she  heard  the  noise  you  made. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS  95 

Roaring  like  a  lion  strong, 
Just  now,  as  you  came  along ; 
And  she'll  scream  and  start  to-night, 
If  you  give  her  any  fright." 

"Well,  then  I'll  be  a  fox: 

You  shall  be  the  hens  and  cocks 

In  the  farmer's  apple-tree 

Crowing  out  so  lustily. 

I  will  softly  creep  this  way,  — 

Peep,  and  pounce  upon  my  prey ; 

And  I'll  bear  you  to  my  den. 

Where  the  fern  grows  in  the  glen." 

"  Oh,  no,  Robert !  you're  so  strong, 
While  you're  dragging  us  along 
I'm  afraid  you'll  tear  our  frocks : 
We  won't  play  at  hens  and  cocks." 
"  If  you  won't  play  fox  or  bears, 
I'm  a  dog,  and  you  be  hares ; 
Then  you'll  only  have  to  run  — 
Girls  are  never  up  to  fun." 

"  You've  your  play,  and  we  have  ours ; 
Go,  and  climb  the  trees  again! 
I  and  little  May  and  Jane 
Are  so  happy  with  our  flowers  I 
Jane  is  culling  foxglove  bells ; 
May  and  I  are  making  posies. 
And  we  want  to  search  the  dells 
For  the  latest  summer  roses." 

Mrs.  Hawtkey. 


96  SELECT  POETRY 

*  78  * 
MR.   NOBODY. 

I  KNOW  a  funny  little  man, 

As  quiet  as  a  mouse, 
Who  does  the  mischief  that  is  done 

In  everybody's  house. 
There's  no  one  ever  sees  his  face ; 

And  yet  we  all  agree 
That  every  plate  we  break  was  cracked 

By  Mr.  Nobody. 

'Tis  he  who  always  tears  our  books. 

Who  leaves  the  door  ajar ; 
He  pulls  the  buttons  from  our  skirts. 

And  scatters  pins  afar. 
That  squeaking  door  will  always  squeak ; 

For,  prithee,  don't  you  see. 
We  leave  the  oiling  to  be  done 

By  Mr.  Nobody? 

He  puts  damp  wood  upon  the  fire, 

That  kettles  cannot  boil ; 
His  are  the  feet  that  bring  in  mud, 

And  all  the  carpets  soil. 
The  papers  always  are  mislaid : 

Who  had  them  last  but  he  ? 
There's  no  one  tosses  them  about 

But  Mr.  Nobody. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  101 

*  83  * 
THE   NOBLE   MAN. 

I  LOVE  the  man  who  freely  gives 

As  Heaven  has  blest  his  store ; 
Who  shares  the  gifts  that  he  receives 

With  those  who  need  them  more; 
Whose  melting  heart  of  pity  moves 

For  sorrow  and  distress  ; 
Of  all  his  friends,  who  mostly  loves 

The  poor,  the  fatherless. 

I  love  the  man  who  scorns  to  be 

To  name  or  sect  a  slave ; 
Whose  soul  is  like  the  sunshine,  free, 

Free  as  the  ocean  wave ; 
Who,  when  he  sees  oppression,  wrong. 

Speaks  out  in  thunder  tones; 
Who  feels,  with  Truth,  that  he  is  strong 

To  grapple  e'en  with  thrones. 

I  love  the  man  who  shuns  to  do 

An  action  mean  or  low ; 
Who  will  a  noble  course  pursue 

To  stranger,  friend,  and  foe  ; 
Who  seeks  for  justice,  not  for  gain ; 

Is  merciful  and  kind ; 
Who  will  not  give  a  needless  pain 

In  body  or  in  mind. 


102  SELECT  POETRY 

I  love  the  man  whose  only  pride 

Is  wisdom,  virtue,  right ; 
Who  feels,  if  truth  is  e'er  denied, 

His  honor  has  a  blight ; 
Who  ne'er  evades  by  look  or  sign  — 

In  weal  or  woe  the  same : 
Methinks  the  glories  are  divine 

Which  cluster  round  his  name. 

D.  C.  Coles  WORTHY. 

*  84  * 

WISHES   AND   REALITIES. 

A  child's  wishes. 

I  WISH  I  were  a  little  bird. 

To  fly  so  far  and  high, 
And  sail  along  the  golden  clouds, 

And  through  the  azure  ^  sky ! 
I'd  be  the  first  to  see  the  sun 

Up  from  the  ocean  spring ; 
And,  ere  it  ^  touched  the  glittering  spire,^ 

His  ray  should  gild  my  wing. 

Above  the  hills  I'd  watch  him  still, 

Far  down  the  crimson  west. 
And  sing  to  him  my  evening  song 

Ere  yet  I  sought  my  rest ; 

*  azrire  (a'zhur),  of  a  delicate  blue  color. 

*  ere  it,  before  it,  that  is,  the  sun's  ray  mentioned  in  the  next  line. 
8  spire,  the  upper,  tapering  part  of  a  church  steeple. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  103 

And  many  a  land  I  then  should  see, 

As  hill  and  plain  I  crossed ; 
Nor  fear,  through  all  the  pathless  sky. 

That  I  should  e'er  be  lost. 

I'd  fly  where,  round  the  olive  bough. 

The  vine  its  tendrils  weaves, 
And  shelter  from  the  noonbeams  seek 

Among  the  myrtle  leaves. 
Now  if  I  climb  our  highest  hill, 

How  little  can  I  see  1 
Oh  had  I  but  a  pair  of  wings, 

How  happy  should  I  be ! 

EEPLY. 

Wings  cannot  soar  above  the  sky, 

As  thou  in  thought  canst  do ; 
Nor  can  the  veiling  clouds  confine 

Thy  mental  eye's  ^  keen  view ; 
Not  to  the  sun  dost  thou  chant  forth 

Thy  simple  evening  hymn  :     . 
Thou  praisest  Him  before  whose  smile 

The  noonday  sun  grows  dim. 

But  thou  mayst  learn  to  trace  the  sun 

Around  the  earth  and  sky, 
And  see  him  rising,  setting  still 

Where  distant  oceans  lie ; 

1  mental  eye,  that  is,  the  miud,  whicb  may  figuratively  be  said  to  see 
what  it  thinks  about. 


104  .SELECT  POETRY 

To  other  lands  the  bird  may  guide 

His  pinions  through  the'  air :     . 
Ere  yet  he  rest  his  wings,  thou  art, 

In  thought^  before  him  there. 

Though  strong  and  free,  his  wing  may  droop, 

Or  bands  restrain  his  flight ; 
Thought  none  may  stay  —  more  fleet  its  course 

Than  swiftest  beams  of  light. 
A  lovelier  clime  than  birds  can  find, 

While  summers  go  and  come, 
Beyond  this  earth  remains  for  those 

Whom  God  doth  summon  home.  4 

*  85  * 
GENTLE   DEEDS. 

'Tis  better  far  one  breast  to  cheer 

Than  bear  a  hero's  name  ; 
To  heal  one  heart,  or  dry  a  tear, 

Is  sweeter  far  than  fame. 

To  shield  the  right,  the  wrong  prevent, 

To  take  away  a  pain. 
To  love  the  pure  and  innocent. 

Are  noblest  traits  of  men. 

With  all  the  fame  of  battle-fields 
That  smoke  with  human  blood, 

A  gentle  deed  an  incense  yields 
That  rises  nearer  God. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  105 

When  but  a  little  piece  of  bread 

To  one  who  needs  is  given, 
Though  history  may  not  mark  the  deed, 

'Tis  chronicled  1  in  heaven. 

H.  p.  BlDDLE. 


THE   LAW   OF   CHARITY. 

Oh  !  never  let  us  lightly  fling 

A  barb  ^  of  woe  to  wound  another ; 

Oh !  never  let  us  haste  to  bring 
The  cup  of  sorrow  to  a  brother. 

Each  has  the  power  to  w^ound ;  but  he 
Who  wounds  that  he  may  witness  pain 

Has  spurned  the  law  of  charity, 
Which  ne'er  inflicts  a  pang  in  vain. 

'Tis  godlike  to  awaken  joy, 

Or  sorrow's  influence  to  subdue ; 

But  not  to  wound  or  to  annoy 
Is  part  of  virtue's  lesson  too. 

Peace,  winged  in  fairer  worlds  above. 
Shall  lend  her  dawn  to  brighten  this ; 

Then  all  man's  labor  shall  be  love, 
And  all  his  aim  his  brother's  bliss. 

T.   GiSBOllNE. 
*  chronicled,  recorded,  known. 
2  barb,  the  sharp  shoulders  of  an  arrow-head. 


When  a  band  of  exiles  moored  their  bark 
On  the  wild  New  England  shore. 


p.  3- 


eled  TOti^a  fat^'launij  %l\$. 


'^  x—i^mms;i 


*  1  * 

THE  TREE. 

The   Tree's   early  leaf-buds  were  bursting  their 

brown : 
"  Shall  I  take  them  away  ?  "  said  the  Frost,  sweep- 
ing down. 
"  No,  leave  them  alone 
Till  the  blossoms  have  grown," 
Prayed  the  Tree,  while  he  trembled  from  rootlet^ 
to  crown. 

The   Tree   bore   his   blossoms,  and   all  the  birds 

sung : 
"  Shall  I  take  them  away  ?  "  said  the  Wind  as  he 
swung. 
"  No,  leave  them  alone 
Till  the  berries  have  grown," 
Said  the  Tree,  while  his  leaflets  ^  quivering  hung. 

*  rootlet,  little  root.  2  leaflet,  little  leaf. 


4  SELECT  POETRY 

The  Tree  bore  his  fruit  in  the  midsummer  glow : 
Said  the  girl,  "  May  I  gather  thy  berries  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  all  thou  canst  see ; 

Take  them ;  all  are  for  thee," 
Said  the  Tree,  while  he  bent  down  his  laden  boughs 
low. 

Bjornstjerne  Bjornson. 


UNDER  THE   GREENWOOD   TREE. 

Under  the  greenwood  tree  ^ 
Who  2  loves  to  lie  with  me, 
And  tune  his  merry  note 
Unto  the  sweet  bird's  throat, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither ! 
Here  shall  we  see 
No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. 

Who  2  doth  ambition  shun,  . 
And  loves  to  live  i'  the  sun  ^ 
Seeking  the  food  he  eats. 
And  pleased  with  what  he  gets, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither ! 
Here  shall  he  see 
No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. 

W.  Shakespeare. 

greenwood  tree,  a  tree  with  the  green  leaves  out.  *  he  who. 

8  i'  the  sun,  in  the  sunshine. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS. 

But  not  alone  to  plant  and  bird 

That  little  stream  was  known  ; 
Its  gentle  murmur  far  was  heard, 

A  friend's  familiar  tone  ; 
It  glided  by  the  cotter's  ^  door, 

It  blessed  the  labors  of  the  poor. 

And  would  that  I  could  thus  be  found, 
While  travelling  life's  brief  way, 

A  humble  friend  to  all  around, 
Where'er  my  footsteps  stray,  — 

Like  that  pure  stream,  with  tranquil  breast. 
Like  it  still  blessing  and  still  blest. 

M.  A.  Stodabt. 


*  5  * 
A  LILY^S   WORD. 

My  delicate  Lily, 

Blossom  of  fragrant  snow, 
Breathing  on  me  from  the  garden, 

How  does  your  beauty  grow  ? 
Tell  me  what  blessing  the  kind  heavens  give  I 

How  do  you  find  it  so  sweet  to  live? 

One  loving  smile  of  the  sun 

Charms  me  out  of  the  mould ; 
One  tender  tear  of  the  rain 

Makes  my  full  heart  unfold. 

1  cotter,  one  who  lives  in  a  cot,  or  small  house. 


SELECT  POETRY 


Welcome  whatever  the  kind  heavens  give, 
And  you  shall  find  it  as  sweet  to  live. 


*  6  * 

THE   TIGER. 

Tiger,  tiger,  burning  bright 

In  the  forest  of  the  night. 

What  immortal  hand  or  eye 

Could  frame  thy  fearful  symmetry  ?  ^ 

In  what  distant  deeps  or  skies 
Burned  the  ardor  of  thine  eyes  ? 
On  what  wings  dare  he  aspire,  — 
What  the  hand  dare  seize  the  fire  ? 

And  what  shoulder,  and  what  art 
Could  twist  the  sinews  of  thy  heart  ? 
And,  when  thy  heart  began  to  beat. 
What  dread  hand  formed  thy  dread  feet  ? 

What  the  hammer,  what  the  chain, 
In  what  furnace  was  thy  brain  ?  — 
Did  God  smile  his  work  to  see  ? 
Did  He  who  made  the  lamb  make  thee  ? 

W.  Blake. 

*  symmetry,  beauty  of  form. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS, 


THE   EAGLE. 

He  clasps  the  crag  with  hooked  hands ; 
Close  to  the  sun  in  lonely  lands, 
Ringed  with  the  azure  world,  he  stands. 

The  wrinkled  sea  beneath  him  crawls ; 
He  watches  from  his  mountain  walls, 
And  like  a  thunderbolt  he  falls. 

Alfred  Tennyson. 

*  8  * 

THE   LION. 

Lion,  thou  art  girt  with  might, 
King  by  uncontested  right ; 
•     Strength  and  majesty  and  pride 
Are  in  thee  personified. 
Slavish  doubt,  or  timid  fear, 
Never  came  thy  spirit  near : 
What  it  is  to  fly,  or  bow 
To  a  mightier  than  thou 
Never  has  been  known  to  thee. 
Creature,  terrible  and  free  I 

Power  the  mightiest  gave  the  lion 
Sinews  like  to  bands  of  iron. 
Gave  him  force  which  never  failed. 
Gave  a  heart  that  never  quailed. 


10  SELECT  POETRY 

Triple-mailed  ^  coat  of  steel, 
Plates  of  brass  from  head  to  heel. 
Less  defensive  were  ^  in  wearing 
Than  the  lion's  heart  of  daring  ; 
Nor  could  towers  of  strength  impart 
Trust  like  that  which  keeps  his  heart. 

When  he  sends  his  roaring  forth, 
Silence  falls  upon  the  earth ; 
For  the  creatures  great  and  small 
Know  his  terror-breathing  call, 
And,  as  if  by  death  pursued, 
Leave  to  him  a  solitude. 

Lion,  thou  art  made  to  dwell 
In  hot  lands,  intractable. 
And  thyself,  the  sun,  the  sand. 
Are  a  tyrannous  triple  band :  ^ 
Lion,  King,  and  desert  throne. 
All  the  region  is  your  own ! 

Mary  Howitt 

J  '  a  coat  of  mail '  is  defensive  armor  for  the  body,  formed  of  a  network  of 
steel  rings  or  plates. 
2  were,  would  be. 
»  a  threefold  band  of  tyrants,  —  three  tyrants. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS.  11 

*  9  * 
I   CAN  AND   I  WILL. 

I  Can  !  —  he-  is  a  fiery  youth, 

And  Will,  a  brother  twin ; 
And,  arm  in  arm,  in  love  and  truth. 

They'll  either  die  or  win. 

Shoulder  to  shoulder,  ever  ready. 

All  firm  and  fearless  still, 
The  brothers  labor,  true  and  steady,  — 

I  Can,  and  brave  I  Will. 

I  Can  climbs  to  the  mountain  top. 
And  ploughs  the  billowy  main  ;  ^ 

He  lifts  the  hammer  in  the  shop. 
And  drives  the  saw  and  plane. 

Then  say  "  I  can  !  "     Yes,  let  it  ring ; 

There  is  a  volume  ^  there  : 
There's  meaning  in  the  eagle's  wing : 

Then  soar,  and  do^  and  dabe. 

Oh,  banish  from  you  every  "  CanH^'' 

And  show  yourself  a  man ; 
And  nothing  will  your  purpose  daunt, 

Led  by  the  brave  I  Can. 

1  main,  ocean  or  main  sea.  *  volume,  power. 


12  SELECT  POETRY 

*  10  * 
CASABIANCA.i 

A   TRUE  STORY. 

The  boy  stood  on  the  burning  deck, 

Whence  all  but  he  had  fled ; 
The  flame  that  lit  the  battle's  wreck 

Shone  round  him  o'er  the  dead : 
Yet  beautiful  and  bright  he  stood 

As  born  to  rule  the  storm  ! 
A  creature  of  heroic  blood, 

A  proud,  though  childlike  form ! 

The  flames  rolled  on — he  would  not  go 

Without  his  father's  word : 
That  father,  faint  in  death  below. 

His  voice  no  longer  heard. 
He  called  aloud :  "  Say,  father,  say 

If  yet  my  task  is  done  !  " 
He  knew  not  that  the  chieftain  lay 

Unconscious  of  his  son. 

"Speak,  father!"  once  again  he  cried, 

"  If  I  may  yet  be  gone  !  " 
And  but  2  the  booming  ^  shots  replied. 

And  fast  the  flames  rolled  on. 

1  Casabianca  was  son   to  a  French  Admiral  commanding  the  flag-ship 
V Orient  at  the  battle  of  the  Nile,  1798. 

*  huU  only.  '  booming,  deep  sounding. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS.  13 

Upon  his  brow  he  felt  their  breath, 

And  in  his  waving  hair, 
And  looked  from  that  lone  post  of  death 

In  still  yet  brave  despair ; 

And  shouted  but  once  more  aloud, 

"  My  father !  must  I  stay  ?  " 
While  o'er  him  fast,  through  sail  and  shroud, 

The  wreathing  fires  made  way. 
They  wrapt  the  ship  in  splendor  wild. 

They  caught  the  flag  on  high. 
And  streamed  above  the  gallant  child, 

Like  banners  in  the  sky. 

There  came  a  burst  of  thunder-sound  — 

The  boy  —  oh !  where  was  he  ? 
Ask  of  the  winds  that  far  around 

With  fragments  strewed  the  sea,  — 
With  mast,  and  helm,  and  pennon  ^  fair, 

That  well  had  borne  their  part ; 
But  the  noblest  thing  which  perished  there 

Was  that  young  faithful  heart ! 

Mks.  Felicia  Hemans. 

*  11  * 

ROME  WASN'T  BUILT  IN  A  DAY. 

The  boy  who  does  a  stroke,  and  stops. 

Will  ne'er  a  great  man  be  : 
'Tis  the  aggregate  ^  of  single  drops 

That  makes  the  sea  the  sea. 

^  pennon,  small  flag.  *  aggregate,  whole  amount,  mass. 


14  SELECT  POETRY 

The  mountain  was  not  at  its  birth 

A  mountain,  so  to  speak : 
The  little  atoms  of  sand  and  earth 

Have  made  its  peak  a  peak. 

Not  all  at  once  the  morning  streams,^ 

The  gold  above  the  gray : 
'Tis  thousand  little  yellow  gleams 

That  makes  the  day  the  day. 

Not  from  the  snow-drift,  May  awakes, 
In  purples,  reds,  and  greens ; 

Spring's  whole  bright  retinue  ^  it  takes 
To  make  her  queen  of  queens. 

Upon  the  orchard,  rain  must  fall, 
And  soak  from  branch  to  root, 

And  blossoms  bloom  and  fade  withal, 
Before  the  fruit  is  fruit. 

The  farmer  needs  must  sow  and  till, 
And  wait  the  wheaten  bread ; 

Then  cradle,  thrash,  and  go  to  mill, 
Before  the  bread  is  bread. 

Swift  heels  may  get  the  early  shout, 

But,  spite  of  all  the  din, 
It  is  the  patient  holding  out 

That  makes  the  winner  win. 

*  aUreams,  emits  streams  of  light.  *  retinue,  train  of  follower*. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS.  15 

Make  this  your  motto,  then,  at  start, 
'Twill  help  to  smooth  the  way. 

And  steady  up  both  hand  and  heart,  — 
"  Rome  wasn't  built  in  a  day !  " 

Alice  Cahy. 


*  12  * 
LITTLE  BY  LITTLE. 

One  step,  and  then  another, 

And  the  longest  walk  is  ended ; 
One  stitch,  and  then  another, 

And  the  largest  rent  is  mended ; 
One  brick  upon  another. 

And  the  highest  wall  is  made  r 
One  flake  upon  another. 

And  the  deepest  snow  is  laid. 

So  the  little  coral-workers,^ 

By  their  slow  but  constant  motion, 

Have  built  those  pretty  islands 
/  In  the  distant  dark-blue  ocean ; 

And  the  noblest  undertakings 
Man's  wisdom  hath  conceived,^ 

By  oft  repeated  efforts 

Have  been  patiently  achieved.^ 

1  coral,  a  hard  limy  substance  of  various  colors.  It  is  really  the  skeletons 
of  a  kind  of  animal  resembling  plants  or  flowers.  In  some  warm  latitudes 
of  the  ocean  they  have  formed  coral-reefs  or  coral  islands. 

2  conceived,  planned.  3  achieved,  done. 


16  SELECT  POETRY 

Then  do  not  look  disheartened 

O'er  the  work  you  have  to  do, 
And  say  that  such  a  mighty  task 

You  never  can  get  through, 
But  just  endeavor  day  by  day 

Another  point  to  gain. 
And  soon  the  mountain  which  you  feared 

Will  prove  to  be  a  plain. 

"  Rome  was  not  builded  in  a  day," 

The  ancient  proverb  teaches ; 
And  Nature,  by  her  trees  and  flowers, 

The  same  sweet  sermon  preaches. 
Think  not  of  far-off  duties. 

But  of  duties  which  are  near. 
And,  having  once  begun  to  work, 

Resolve  to  persevere. 


*  13  * 
I-HAVE   AND  0-HAD-I; 

OR,    A   BIRD    IN    HAND    IS    WORTH    TWO    IN   THE    BUSH. 


\ 


There  are  two  little  songsters  well  known  in  the 
land. 
Their  names  are  I-Have  and  0-Had-I ; 
I-Have   will   come    tamely   and    perch    on    your 
hand. 
But  0-Had-I  will  mock  you  most  sadly. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  19 

A  story  of  a  dim  ravine 

O'er  which  the  towering  tree-tops  lean, 

With  one  blue  rift  of  sky  between : 

And  there,  two  thousand  years  ago, 
A  little  flower  as  white  as  snow 
Swayed  in  the  silence  to  and  fro. 

Day  after  da}^  with  longing  eye, 
The  floweret  watched  the  narrow  sky. 
And  fleecy  clouds  that  floated  by. 

And  through  the  darkness,  night  by  night, 
One  gleaming  star  would  climb  the  height. 
And  cheer  the  lonely  floweret's  sight. 

Thus  watching  the  blue  heavens  afar. 

And  the  rising  of  its  favorite  star, 

A  slow  change  came,  —  but  not  to  mar : 

For  softly  o'er  its  petals  ^  white 
There  crept  a  blueness,  like  the  light 
Of  skies  upon  a  summer  night ; 

And  in  its  chalice,^  I  am  told, 

The  bonny  ^  bell  was  formed  to  hold 

A  tiny  star,  that  gleamed  like  gold. 

»  pet'als,  leaves.  2  chalice  (challs),  cup,  flower-cup. 

'  bomij/,  beautiful. 


20  SELECT  POETRY 

Now,  little  people  sweet  and  true, 

I  find  a  lesson  here  for  you. 

Writ  in  the  floweret's  bell  of  blue : 


The  patient  child  whose  watchful  eye 
Strives  after  all  things  pure  and  high 
Shall  take  their  image  by  and  by. 


*  16  * 

THE   BARLEY-MOWERS'    SONG. 

Barley-mowers,  here  we  stand. 
One,  two,  three,  a  steady  band. 
True  of  heart  and  strong  of  limb, 
Ready  in  our  harvest  trim  ; 
All  a-row,  with  spirits  blithe. 
Now  we  whet  the  bended  scythe, 
MinJc-a-tink,  rinJc-a-tink,  rink-a-tink-a-tinh  ! 

Side  by  side,  now  bending  low, 
Down  the  swaths  of  barley  go. 
Stroke  by  stroke,  as  true's  ^  the  chime 
Of  the  bells,  we  keep  in  time ; 
Then  we  whet  the  ringing  scythe. 
Standing  'mong  the  barley  lithe,^ 
Rink-a-tink^  rink-a-tink,  rink-a-tink-artink. 

1  as  truths,  as  true  as.  *  lithe,  easily  bent. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  23 

*  18  * 
THE  BUILDING  OF   THE   NEST. 

They'll  come  again  to  the  apple-tree,  — 

Eobin  and  all  the  rest,  — 
When  the  orchard  branches  are  fair  to  see 

In  the  snow  of  the  blossoms  dressed ; 
And  the  prettiest  thing  in  the  world  will  be 

The  building  of  the  nest. 

Weaving  it  well,  so  round  and  trim, 

Hollowing  it  with  care  ; 
Nothing  too  far  away  for  him. 

Nothing  for  her  too  fair ; 
Hanging  it  safe  on  the  topmost  limb,  — 

Their  castle  in  the  air. 

Ah,  mother-bird,  you'll  have  weary  days 
When  the  eggs  are  under  your  breast, 

And  your  mate  will  fear  for  wilful  ways 
When  the  wee  ones  leave  the  nest ; 

But  they'll  find  their  wings  in  a  glad  amaze, 
And  God  will  see  to  the  rest. 

So  come  to  the  trees  with  all  your  train 

When  the  apple  blossoms  blow ; 
Through  the  April  shimmer  of  sun  and  rain 

Go  flying  to  and  fro  ; 
And  sing  to  our  hearts  as  we  watch  again 

Your  fairy  building  grow. 

Mks.  M.  E.  Sangster. 


24  SELECT  POETRY 

*  19  * 

CLEANLINESS. 

All  endearing  cleanliness, 
Virtue  next  to  godliness, 
Easiest,  cheapest,  needful'st  duty. 
To  the  body  health  and  beauty : 
Who  that's  human  would  refuse  it. 
When  a  little  water  does  it  ? 

Charles  and  Mary  Lamb 

(In  **  Poetry  for  Children  "). 

*  20  * 

LADY  TABBYSKIN'S   BALL. 

Lady  Tabbyskin  gave  a  large  party  last  night, 

While  we  were  asleep  in  our  beds ; 
The  pussy-cats  danced  in  the  clear  moonlight. 

All  over  the  tiles  ^  and  leads. 

Sir  Grimalkin 2  the  Fierce,  just  home  from   the 
wars, 

And  Mademoiselle^  Minette,  from  France, — 
You'd  never  suspect  such  a  darling  had  claws,  — 

Led  off  in  the  first  country-dance.* 


1  tile,  a  piece  of  baked  clay  need  for  roofing. 

2  Grimalkin  (gri  mJirkin),  a  name  given  to  an  old  cat. 
8  Mademoiselle,  Miss. 

*  country  dance,  a  dance  in  which  the  partners  are  arranged  in  opposite 
lines  —  rightly  contra-dance. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  25 

Sweet  Blanchette  was  there,  blue  eyes  and  white 
hair, 

The  belle  of  the  country  all  round  ; 
But  so  deaf,  that,  though  all  were  meowing  for  her. 

She  never  could  hear  the  first  sound. 

Black  Tom  gazed  and  sighed,  as  if  deeply  in  love ; 

He  looked  somewhat  anxious  and  pale ; 
But,  just  as  he  hoped  the  fair  creature  to  move, 

Slyboots  gave  a  tug  at  his  tail. 

Miss  Tortoise-shell  ^  sang  a  most  beautiful  song, 
Though  I  could  not  quite  make  out  the  words ; 

But  the  pith  of  the  ditty ,2  unless  I  heard  wrong, 
Was  tender  young  mice  and  sv/eet  birds. 

They  all  joined  in  chorus  —  oh,  dear !  oh,  dear ! 

It  woke  me  up  out  of  my  sleep : 
Such  music  it  never  befell  me  to  hear ! 

—  I  ran  to  the  window  to  peep ; 

And  there  I  beheld  —  a  sweet  picture  to  see  — 
Pussy-cats  big,  and  pussy-cats  small. 

As  they  danced  and  they  sang  on  the  roofs  in  high 
glee, 
At  the  great  Lady  Tabbyskin's  ball ! 

Mrs.  Charles  Heaton 


1  Tortoise-shell  (tor'tiz),  the  shell  of  a  kind  of  sea-turtle.    The  reference 
here  is  to  the  color. 

2  pith  of  the  ditty,  meaning  of  the  song. 


26  SELECT  POETRY 

*  21  * 
THE   SORROWFUL   SEA-GULL. 

The  Sea-gull  is  so  sorry ! 

She  flings  herself  about, 
And  utters  little  wailing  cries, 

And  flutters  in  and  out. 

The  fishes  do  not  sympathize  — 

Fish  are  so  very  cool  I 
They  make  so  many  rules,  you  know 

And  who  can  feel  by  rule  ? 

They  have  a  rule  for  swimming, 

A  rule  for  taking  food  ; 
They  have  a  rule  for  pleasure  trips, 

A  rule  for  doing  good. 

And  people  who  make  rules  like  that 
May  dine,  and  work,  and  swim. 

But  never  know  how  sweet  a  thing 
It  is  to  take  a  whim. 

I'd  like  to  be  a  Sea-gull, 

With  lovely  beak  and  claws ; 

I  would  not  like  to  be  a  Fish, 
Subject  to  fishy  laws. 

And,  if  they  make  more  changes  soon 

By  acts  of  parliament, 
I  won't  consent  to  be  a  fish,  — 

I  never  will  consent  I 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  27 

Why  is  the  Sea-gull  sorry  ? 

I'm  not  allowed  to  tell. 
The  fish,  who  will  not  sympathize, 

Know  what's  the  matter  well ! 

And  you  who'd  feel  with  all  your  hearts, 

And  give  her  love  and  tears, 
Are  not  allowed  to  hear  a  word  — 

And  such  is  life,  my  dears ! 

Child-World. 


*  22  * 

THE  LITTLE   GIRL'S   FAWN. 

With  sweetest  milk  and  sugar  first 

I  it  at  my  own  fingers  nursed ; 

And  as  it  grew,  so  every  day 

It  waxed  ^  more  white  and  sweet  than  they. 

It  had  so  sweet  a  breath !  and  oft 

I  blushed  to  see  its  foot  more  soft 

And  white,  —  shall  I  say  ?  —  than  my  hand ; 

Nay,  any  lady's  of  the  land. 

It  is  a  wondrous  thing  how  fleet 
'Twas  on  those  little  silver  feet, 
With  what  a  pretty  skipping  grace 
It  oft  would  challenge  ^  me  the  race  ! 

1  waxed,  grew.  ^  challe7ige,  invite  (to  run  a  race). 


28  SELECT  POETRY 

And  wlien't  ^  had  left  me  far  away 
'Twould  stay,  and  run  again,  and  stay ; 
For  it  was  nimbler  much  than  hinds,^ 
And  trod  as  if  on  the  four  winds. 

I  have  a  garden  of  my  own, 
But  so  with  roses  overgrown. 
And  lilies,  that  you  would  it  guess 
To  be  a  little  wilderness : 
And  all  the  spring-time  of  the  year 
It  lovdd  only  to  be  there. 

Among  the  beds  of  lilies  I 

Have  sought  it  oft,  where  it  should  ^  lie, 

Yet  could  not,  till  itself  would  rise, 

Find  it,  although  before  mine  eyes ; 

For  in  the  flaxen  lilies'  shade 

It  like  a  bank  of  lilies  laid.* 

Upon  the  roses  it  would  feed 
-  Until  its  lips  e'en  seemed  to  bleed. 
And  then  to  me  'twould  boldly  trip, 
And  print  those  roses  on  my  lip. 

But  all  its  chief  delight  was  still 

On  roses  thus  itself  to  fill. 

And  its  pure,  dainty  limbs  to  fold 

In  whitest  sheets  of  lilies  cold : 

Had  it  lived  long,  it  would  have  been 

Lilies  without  —  roses  within. 

A.  Marvell. 

*  whenH,  when  it.  2  hinds,  female  deer.  »  should,  might. 

*  laid,  used  here  for  '  lay,'  past  tense  of  '  lie.' 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  29 

*  23  * 

A  NIGHT  WITH  A  WOLF. 

Little  one,  come  to  my  knee  ! 

Hark,  how  the  rain  is  pouring 
Over  the  roof,  in  the  pitch-black  ^  night, 

And  the  wind  in  the  woods  a-roaring ! 

Hush,  my  darling,  and  listen. 

Then  pay  for  the  story  with  kisses ; 

Father  was  lost  in  the  pitch-black  night, 
In  just  such  a  storm  as  this  is ! 

High  up  on  the  lonely  mountains. 

Where  the  wild  men  watched  and  waited ; 

Wolves  in  the  forest,  and  bears  in  the  bush, 
And  I  on  my  path  belated. 

The  rain  and  the  night  together 

Came  down,  and  the  wind  came  after, 

Bending  the  props  of  the  pine-tree  roof. 
And  snapping  many  a  rafter. 

I  crept  along  in  the  darkness, 

Stunned,  and  bruised,  and  blinded,  — 

Crept  to  a  fir  with  thick-set  boughs, 
And  a  sheltering  rock  behind  it. 

1  pitch-black,  black  as  pitch  or  tar. 


30  SELECT  POETRY 

There,  from  the  blowing  and  raining, 
Crouching,  I  sought  to  hide  me  : 

Something  rustled,  two  green  eyes  shone  — 
And  a  wolf  lay  down  beside  me ! 

Little  one,  be  not  frightened : 

I  and  the  wolf  together. 
Side  by  side,  through  the  long,  long  night, 

Hid  from  the  awful  weather. 

His  wet  fur  pressed  against  me ; 

Each  of  us  warmed  the  other ; 
Each  of  us  felt  in  the  stormy  dark 

That  beast  and  man  was  brother. 

And,  when  the  falling  forest 
No  longer  crashed  in  warning. 

Each  of  us  went  from  our  hiding-place 
Forth  in  the  wild  wet  morning. 

Darling,  kiss  me  in  payment. 
Hark !  how  the  wind  is  roaring  ! 

Father's  house  is  a  better  place 
When  the  stormy  rain  is  pouring. 

Bayard  Tatlob. 


^mi 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  31 

*  24  * 
LANDING   OF   THE  PILGRIM  FATHERS. 

The  breaking  waves  dashed  high 

On  a  stern  and  rock-bound  coast, 
And  the  woods  against  a  stormy  sky 

Their  giant  branches  tossed  ; 
And  the  heavy  night  hung  dark 

The  hills  and  waters  o'er, 
When  a  band  of  exiles  moored  their  bark 

On  the  wild  New  England  shore. 

Not  as  the  conqueror  comes. 

They,  the  true-hearted,  came ; 
Not  with  the  roll  of  the  stirring  drums, 

And  the  trumpet  that  sings  of  fame : 
Not  as  the  flying  come. 

In  silence  and  in  fear : 
They  shook  the  depths  of  the  desert's  gloom 

With  their  hymns  of  lofty  cheer. 

Amidst  the  storm  they  sang ; 

And  the  stars  heard,  and  the  sea ; 
And  the  sounding  aisles  of  the  dim  woods  rang 

To  the  Anthem  of  the  Free. 
The  ocean  eagle  soared 

From  his  nest  by  the  white  wave's  foam ; 
And  the  rocking  pines  of  the  forest  roared,  — 

This  was  their  welcome  home  ! 


32  SELECT  POETRY. 

There  were  men  with  hoary  hair 

Amidst  that  pilgrim  band  : 
Why  had  they  come  to  wither  there, 

Away  from  their  childhood's  land  ? 
There  was  woman's  fearless  eye, 

Lit  by  her  deep  love's  truth : 
There  was  manhood's  brow  serenely  high. 

And  the  fiery  heart  of  youth. 

What  sought  they  thus  afar  ?  — ' 

Bright  jewels  of  the  mine  ? 
The  wealth  of  seas,  the  spoils  of  war  ? 

—  They  sought  a  faith's  pure  shrine. 
Ay,  call  it  holy  ground, 

The  soil  where  first  they  trod ! 
They  have  left  unstained  what  there  they  found. 

Freedom  to  worship  God. 

Felicia  Hemans. 


*  25  * 
THE  ROOK  AND  THE  LARK. 

"  Good-night,  Sir  Rook,"  said  a  little  Lark ; 

"  The  daylight  fades,  it  will  soon  be  dark ; 

I've  bathed  my  wings  in  the  sun's  last  ray ; 

I've  sung  my  hymn  to  the  dying  day : 

So  now  I  haste  to  my  quiet  nook 

In  yon  dewy  meadow.     Good-night,  Sir  Rook." 

1  amain,  -with  might,  powerfully.  *  mere,  a  pool  or  lake. 

3  ween,  think,  fancy. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  .  33 

"  Good-night,  poor  Lark,"  said  his  titled  friend, 

With  a  haughty  toss  and  a  distant  bend ; 

"  I  also  go  to  my  rest  profound. 

But  not  to  sleep  on  the  cold,  damp  ground ; 

The  fittest  place  for  a  bird  like  me 

Is  the  topmost  bough  of  yon  tall  pine-tree. 

"  I  opened  my  eyes  at  peep  of  day. 
And  saw  you  taking  your  upward  way. 
Dreaming  your  fond  romantic  dreams,  — 
An  ugly  speck  in  the  sun's  bright  beams,  — 
Soaring  too  high  to  be  seen  or  heard. 
And  said  to  myself,  '  What  a  foolish  bird ! ' 

"  I  trod  the  park  with  a  princely  air ; 

I  filled  my  crop  with  the  richest  fare ; 

I  cawed  all  day  mid  a  lordly  crew, 

And  I  made  more  noise  in  the  world  than  you ; 

The  sun  shone  full  on  my  coal-black  wing ; 

I  looked  and  wondered.  —  Good-night,  poor  thing ! " 

"Good-night,  once  more,"  said  the  Lark's  sweet 

voice ; 
"  I  see  no  cause  to  repent  my  choice. 
You  build  your  nest  in  the  lofty  pine ; 
But  is  your  slumber  more  soft  than  mine  ? 
You  make  more  noise  in  the  world  than  I ; 
But  whose  is  the  sweeter  minstrelsy?  "  ^ 

1  minstrelsy,  music,  singing,  or  songs. 


,34  SELECT  POETRY 

*  26  * 
TO  THE  LAND  OF  GOLD. 

Far  away,  where  the  tempests  play, 

Over  the  lonely  seas, 
Sail  we  still,  with  a  steady  will, 

Onward  before  the  breeze. 

Onward  yet,  till  our  hearts  forget 

The  loves  that  we  leave  behind,  • 

Till  the  memories  dear  that  thrill  in  our  ear 
Flow  past  like  the  whistling  wind. 

Let  them  come,  —  sweet  thoughts  of  home, 

And  voices  we  loved  of  old : 
What  care  we,  that  sail  the  sea, 

Bound  for  a  Land  of  Gold? 

Gems  there  are  which  are  lovelier  far 
Than  the  flash  of  a  maiden's  eyes ; 

Jewels  bright  as  the  magic  light 
That  purples  the  evening  skies. 

Crowns  that  gleam  like  a  fairy  dream, 

Treasures  of  price  untold ; 
And  we  are  bound  for  that  charmed  ground; 

We  sail  for  the  Land  of  Gold ! 

W.  E.   LiTTLEWOOD. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.     .  35 

*  27  * 
LUCY  GRAY. 

Oft  I  had  heard  of  Lucy  Gray ; 

And,  when  I  crossed  the  wild, 
I  chanced  to  see  at  break  of  day 

The  solitary  Child. 

No  mate,  no  comrade,  Lucy  knew ; 

She  dwelt  on  a  wide  moor,  — 
The  sweetest  thing  that  ever  grew 

Beside  a  human  door ! 

You  yet  may  spy  the  fawn  at  play, 

The  hare  upon  the  green ; 
But  the  sweet  face  of  Lucy  Gray 

Will  never  more  be  seen. 

"  To-night  will  be  a  stormy  night  — 

You  to  the  town  must  go : 
And  take  a  lantern,  child,  to  light 

Your  mother  through  the  snow.'* 

"That,  father,  will  I  gladly  do: 

'Tis  scarcely  afternoon  — 
The  minster  ^  clock  has  just  struck  two ; 

And  yonder  is  the  moon." 

^  minister,  church. 


36  ..         SELECT  POETRY 

At  this  the  father  raised  his  hook. 

And  snapped  a  fagot  band ;  . 
He  plied  his  work ;  —  and  Lucy  took 

The  lantern  in  her  hand. 

Not  blither  is  the  mountain  roe : 

With  many  a  wanton  stroke 
Her  feet  disperse  the  powdery  snow, 

That  rises  up  like  smoke. 

The  storm  came  on  before  its  time : 

She  wandered  up  and  down ; 
And  many  a  hill  did  Lucy  climb, 

But  never  reached  the  town. 

The  wretched  parents  all  that  night 

Went  shouting  far  and  wide  ; 
But  there  was  neither  sound  nor  sight 

To  serve  them  for  a  guide. 

At  daybreak  on  a  hill  they  stood 

That  overlooked  the  moor ; 
And  thence  they  saw  the  bridge  of  wood, 

A  furlong  from  their  door. 

They  wept  —  and,  turning  homeward,  cried, 
"  In  Heaven  we  all  shall  meet !  "  — 

When  in  the  snow  the  mother  spied 
The  print  of  Lucy's  feet. 

Half  breathless,  from  the  steep  hill's  edge 
They  tracked  the  footmarks  small ; 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  37 

And  through  the  broken  hawthorn  hedge, 
And  by  the  long  stone  wall ; 

And  then  an  open  field  they  crossed  — 

The  marks  were  still  the  same ; 
They  tracked  them  on,  nor  ever  lost ; 

And  to  the  bridge  they  came. 

They  followed  from  the  snowy  bank 

Those  footmarks,  one  by  one^ 
Into  the  middle  of  the  plank  — 

And  further  there  were  none  I 

Yet  some  maintain  that  to  this  day 

She  is  a  living  child ; 
That  you  may  see  sweet  Lucy  Gray 

Upon  the  lonesome  wild. 

O'er  rough  and  smooth  she  trips  along 

And  never  looks  behind ; 

And  sings  a  solitary  song 

That  whistles  in  the  wind. 

"W.  Wordsworth. 

*  28  * 
A   FAREWELL. 

Flow  down,  cold  rivulet,  to  the  sea, 

Thy  tribute  wave  deliver : 
No  mor,e  by  thee  my  steps  shall  be. 

Forever  and  forever. 


38  SELECT  POETRY 

Flow,  softly  flow,  by  lawn  and  lea, 

A  rivulet,  then  a  river : 
Nowhere  by  thee  my  steps  shall  be, 

Forever  and  forever. 

But  here  will  sigh  thine  alder-tree. 
And  here  thine  aspen  shiver ; 

And  here  by  thee  will  hum  the  bee, 
Forever  and  forever. 

A  thousand  suns  will  stream  on  thee, 
A  thousand  moons  will  quiver ; 

But  not  by  thee  my  steps  shall  be, 
Forever  and  forever. 

Alfred  Tenkyson. 

*  29  * 
THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS. 

To  claim  the  Arctic  came  the  sun. 
With  banners  of  the  burning  zone,  — 
Unrolled  upon  their  airy  spars. 
They  froze  beneath  the  light  of  stars  ; 
And  there  they  float,  those  streamers  old. 
Those  Northern  Lights,  forever  cold. 

B.  F.  Taylor. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  39 

*  30  * 

THE   EXAMPLE   OF   BIRDS. 

Ring-dove,  resting  benignly  calm, 
Tell  my  bosom  thy  secret  balm. 
Blackbird,  straining  thy  tuneful  throat, 
Teach  my  spirit  thy  thankful  note. 
Small  wren,  building  thy  happy  nest. 
Where  shall  I  find  a  home  of  rest  ? 
Eagle,  cleaving  the  vaulted  sky. 
Teach  my  nature  to  soar  on  high. 
Skylark,  winging  thy  way  to  heaven, 
Be  thy  track  to  my  footsteps  given ! 


*  31  * 

SPRING. 

The  Time  hath  laid  his  mantle  by 

Of  wind  and  rain  and  icy  chill. 

And  dons  ^  a  rich  embroidery 

Of  sunlight  poured  on  lake  and  hill. 

No  beast  or  bird  in  earth  or  sky. 

Whose  voice  doth  not  with  gladness  thrill ; 

For  Time  hath  laid  his  mantle  by 

Of  wind  and  rain  and  icy  chill. 

River  and  fountain,  brook  and  rill, 

1  dons,  puts  on,  literally  'does  on,'  the  opposite  of  doffs,  '  does  off.' 


40  SELECT  POETRY 

Bespangled  o'er  with  livery  ^  gay 
Of  silver  d.roplets,2  wind  their  way  : 
All  in  their  new  apparel  vie, 
For  Time  hath  laid  his  mantle  by. 

Charles  of  Orleans  (1391-1465). 

( Written  while  a  prisoner  in  England.) 

*  32  * 
COMMON  THINGS. 

The  sunshine  is  a  glorious  thing 

That  comes  alike  to  all, 
Lighting  the  peasant's  ^  lowly  cot, 

The  noble's  painted  hall. 

The  moonlight  is  a  gentle  thing ; 

It  through  the  window  gleams 
Upon  the  snowy  pillow,  where 

The  happy  infant  dreams. 

It  shines  upon  the  fisher's  boat 

Out  on  the  lonely  sea, 
Or  where  the  little  lambkins  lie 

Beneath  the  old  oak-tree. 

The  dewdrops,  on  the  summer  morn 

Sparkle  upon  the  grass ; 
The  village  children  brush  them  off 

As  through  the  fields  they  pass. 

*  livery,  a  kind  of  dress  or  garb.  2  dropletsi,  little  drops. 

*  peasant,  a  furm-luboror  in  England  and  otlier  countries  of  the  Old  World. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  41 

There  are  no  gemy  in  monarchs'  crowns 

More  beautiful  than  they, 
And  yet  we  scarcely  notice  them, 

But  tread  them  off  in  play. 

Poor  robin  in  the  pear-tree  sings, 

Beside  the  cottage  door ; 
The  heath-flower  fills  the  air  with  sweets, 

Upon  the  pathless  moor.^ 

There  are  as  many  lovel}^  things, 

As  many  pleasant  tones. 
For  those  who  sit  by  cottage  hearths 

As  those  who  sit  on  thrones. 

Mits.  Hawkeswoeth. 


*  33  * 
HYMN   TO   THE   SEASONS. 

When  spring  unlocks  the  flowers  to  paint  the 
laughing  soil, 

When  summer's  balmy  showers  refresh  the  mow- 
er's toil, 

When  winter  binds  in  frosty  chains  the  fallow  ^ 
and  the  flood. 

In  God  the  earth  rejoiceth  still,  and  owns  its 
maker  good. 

*  moor,  an  extensive  tract  of  waste  land  covered  with  patches  of  heath. 

-  fallow,  land  ploughed  but  unsown. 


42  SELECT  POETRY 

The  birds  that  wake  the  morning  and  those  that 

love  the  shade, 
The  winds  that  sweep  the  mountain  or  lull  the 

drowsy  glade, 
The  sun  that  from  his  amber  bower  rejoiceth  on 

his  way, 
The  moon  and  stars,  their  Maker's  name  in  silent 

pomp  display. 

Shall  man,  the  lord  of  Nature,  expectant  of  the 

sky,— 
Shall    man,   alone    unthankful,   his    little    praise 

deny? 
No :  let  the  Year  forsake  his  course,  the  Seasons 

cease  to  be. 
Thee,  Master,  must  we  always  love,  and,  Saviour, 

honor  thee. 

The  flowers  of  spring  may  wither,  the  hope   of 

summer  fade. 
The  autumn  droop  in  winter,  the  birds  forsake  the 

shade. 
The  wind  be  lulled,  the  sun  and  moon  forget  their 

old  decree,^ 
But  we  in  Nature's  latest  hour,  O  Lord !  will  cling 

to  thee. 

Reginald  Hebeb. 
See  GeneBis  i.  16. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  43 

*  34  * 
SNOW   FALLING. 

The  wonderful  snow  is  falling 

Over  river  and  woodland  and  wold ;  ^ 

The  trees  bear  spectral  ^  blossoms 
In  the  moonshine  blurred  and  cold. 

There's  a  beautiful  garden  in  heaven ; 

And  these  are  the  banished  flowers, 
Falling  and  driven,  and  drifted 

Into  this  dark  world  of  ours. 

J.  J.  Piatt. 

*  35  * 

THE   RAINBOW. 

A  FRAGMENT  of  a  rainbow  bright 

Through  the  moist  air  I  see. 
All  dark  and  damp  on  yonder  height, 

All  bright  and  clear  to  me. 

An  hour  ago  the  storm  was  here. 

The  gleam  was  far  behind : 
So  will  our  joys  and  griefs  appear. 

When  earth  has  ceased  to  blind. 

Grief  will  be  joy,  if  on  its  edge 

Fall  soft  that  holiest  ray ; 

Joy  will  be  grief,  if  no  faint  pledge 

Be  there  of  heavenly  day. 

J.  Keble. 

*  wold,  an  open  country.  2  spectral,  ghostly,  unreal. 


44  SELECT  POETRY 

*  36  * 

LITTLE   SORROW. 

Among  the  thistles  on  the  hill, 

In  tears,  sat  Little  Sorrow : 

"  I  see  a  black  cloud  in  the  west, 

'Twill  bring  a  storm  to-morrow ; 

And,  when  it  storms,  where  shall  I  be  ? 

And  what  will  keep  the  rain  from  me  ? 

Woe's  me  !  "  said  Little  Sorrow. 

"But  now  the  air  is  soft  and  sweet. 
The  sunshine  bright,"  said  Pleasure : 
"  Here  is  my  pipe,^  if  you  will  dance, 
I'll  make  my  merriest  measure ; 
Or,  if  you  choose,  we'll  sit  beneath 
The  red-rose  tree,  and  twine  a  wreath : 
Come,  come  with  me  !  "  said  Pleasure. 

"  Oh,  I  want  neither  dance  nor  flowers ; 
They're  not  for  me,"  said  Sorrow, 
"  When  that  black  cloud  is  in  the  west, 
And  it  will  storm  to-morrow ! 
And,  if  it  storm,  what  shall  I  do  ? 
I  have  no  heart  to  play  with  you ; 
Go,  go  I  "  said  Little  Sorrow. 

*  pipe,  a  kind  of  flute. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  45 

But  lo  !  when  came  the  morrow's  morn, 

The  cloudy  were  all  blown  oyer ; 

The  lark  sprang  singing  from  his  nest 

Among  the  dewy  clover ; 

And  Pleasure  called,  "  Come  out  and  dance  ! 

To-day  you  mourn  no  evil  chance  : 

The  clouds  have  all  blown  over !  " 


"  But  if  they  have,  alas,  alas  ! 
Poor  comfort  that  I  "  said  Sorrow ; 
"  For  if  to-day  we  miss  the  storm 
'Twill  surely  come  to-morrow, 
And  be  the  fiercer  for  delay :  ' 
I  am  too  sore  at  heart  to  play, 
e  Sorrow 

Annie  D.  Green 

(Marian  Douglas). 


*  37  * 
LUCK  AND   LABOR. 

Luck  doth  wait,  standing  idly  at  the  gate, 

Wishing,  wishing,  all  the  day  ; 
And  at  night,  without  a  fire,  without  a  light, 

And  before  an  empty  tray, 
Doth  sadly  say, 
"  To-morrow  something  may  turn  up  ; 
To-night  on  wishes  I  must  sup." 


46  SELECT  POETRY 

Labor  goes,  ploughing  deep  the  fertile  rows, 

Singing,  singing,  all  the  day, 
And  at  night,  before  the  fire,  beside  the  light. 

And  with  a  well-filled  tray, 
Doth  gladly  say, 
"  To-morrow  I'll  turn  something  up ; 
To-night  on  wages  earned  I  sup." 

Mrs.  Caroline  A.  Soule. 
(In  "  St.  Nicholas. ") 


*  38  * 
PERSEVERANCE. 

A  SWALLOW  in  the  spring 
Came  to  our  granary,  and  'neath  the  eaves 
Essayed  ^  to  make  a  nest,  and  there  did  bring 

Wet  earth  and  straw  and  leaves. 

Day  after  day  she  toiled 
With  patient  heart ;  but  ere  her  work  was  crowned, 
Some  sad  mishap  the  tiny  fabric  spoiled, 

And  dashed  it  to  the  ground. 

She  found  the  ruin  wrought ;  ^ 
But  not  cast  down,  forth  from  the  place  she  flew. 
And  with  her  mate  fresh  earth  and  grasses  brought. 

And  built  her  nest  anew. 

1  essayed,  tried.  *  wro^ight,  worked,  done. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  47 

But  scarcely  had  she  placed 
The  last  soft  feather  on  its  ample  floor, 
When  wicked  hands,  or  chance,  again  laid  waste,    ' 

And  wrought  the  ruin  o'er. 

But  still  her  heart  she  kept, 
And  toiled  again  ;  and  last  night,  hearing  calls, 
I  looked,  and,  lo  !  three  little  swallows  slept 

Within  the  earth-made  walls. 

What  truth  is  here,  O  Man  ! 
Hath, hope  been  smitten  in  its  early  dawn? 
Have  clouds  o'ercast  thy  purpose,  trust,  or  plan  ? 

—  Have  faith,  and  struggle  on. 

R.  S.  S.  Andeos 


*  39  * 
DISCONTENT. 

Dowisr  in  a  field,  one  day  in  June, 
The  flowers  all  bloomed  together, 

Save  one,  who  tried  to  hide  herself. 
And  drooped,  that  pleasant  weather. 

A  Robin  who  had  flown  too  high. 

And  felt  a  little  lazy. 
Was  resting  near  this  Buttercup 

Who  wished  she  were  a  Daisy ; 


48  •  SELECT  POETRY 

For  Daisies  grow  so  trig  and  tall ! 
■         She  always  had  a  passion 

For  wearing  frills  around  her  neck, 
In  just  the  Daisies'  fashion. 

And  Buttercups  must  always  be 
The  same  old  tiresome  color ; 

While  Daisies  dress  in  gold  and  white, 
Although  their  gold  is  duller. 

"  Dear  Robin,"  said  this  sad  young  flower, 
"  Perhaps  you'd  not  mind  trying 

To  find  a  nice  white  frill  for  me. 
Some  day  when  you  are  flying?  " 

"  You  silly  thing  ! "  the  Robin  said, 
"I  think  you  must  be  crazy: 

I'd  rather  be  my  honest  self 
Than  any  made-up  Daisy. 

"  You're  nicer  in  your  own  bright  gown ; 

The  little  children  love  you  : 
Be  the  best  Buttercup  you  can, 

And  think  no  flower  above  you. 

"  Though  Swallows  leave  me  out  of  sight. 
We'd  better  keep  our  places  : 

Perhaps  the  world  would  all  go  wrong 
With  one  too  many  Daisies. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  49 

"Look  bravely  up  into  the  sky, 
And  be  content  with  knowing 

That  God  wished  for  a  Buttercup 
Just  here,  where  you  are  growing." 

Sarah  O.  Jewett. 

*  40  * 

THE   DEWDROP  AND   THE   STREAM. 

The  brakes  ^  with  golden  flowers  were  crowned, 

And  melody  was  heard  around. 

When,  near  the  scene,  a  dewdrop  shed 

Its  lustre  on  a  violet's  head, 

And  trembling  to  the  breeze  it  hung. 

The  streamlet,  as  it  rolled  along. 

The  beauty  of  the  morn  confessed, 

And  thus  the  sparkling  pearl  addressed : 

"  Sure,  little  drop,  rejoice  we  may, 
For  all  is  beautiful  and  gay ; 
Creation  wears  her  emerald  ^  dress, 
And  smiles  in  all  her  loveliness ; 
And  with  delight  and  pride  I  see 
That  little  flower  bedewed  by  thee : 
Thy  lustre  with  a  gem  might  vie. 
While  trembling  in  its  purple  eye." 

"  Ay,  you  may  well  rejoice,  'tis  true," 
Replied  the  radiant  drop  of  dew : 

1  brake,  a  tract  of  land  overgrown  with  ferns,  furze,  &c. 

2  emerald,  green,  like  the  precious  stone  of  that  name. 


50  SELECT  POETRY 

"  You  will,  no  doubt,  as  on  you  move 
To  flocks  and  herds  a  blessing  prove. 
But  when  the  sun  ascends  on  high, 
Its  beams  will  draw  me  towards  the  sky , 
And  I  must  own  my  little  power  — 
I've  but  refreshed  a  humble  flower." 

"Hold!  "  cried  the  stream,  "nor  thus  repine; 
For  well  'tis  known  a  Power  divine. 
Subservient  ^  to  His  will  supreme. 
Has  made  the  dewdrop  and  the  stream. 
Though  small  thou  art  (I  that  allow), 
No  mark  of  Heaven's  contempt  art  thou 
Thou  hast  refreshed  a  humble  flower, 
And  done  according  to  thy  power." 

All  things  that  are,  both  great  and  small, 
One  glorious  Author  formed  them  all  : 
This  thought  may  all  repinings  quell,  — 
What  serves  his  purpose  serves  him  well. 

*  41  * 
GLAD   AS   A   BIRD. 

All  soft  and  brown  the  upturned  fields 

Lie  mellow  in  the  sun ; 
The  very  skies  yield  auguries  ^ 

Of  better  days  begun,  — 

1  subaervient,  serving  to  promote,  submissive. 
*  yield  auguries^  give  out  signs. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  51 

A  warmth,  a  fulness,  brooding  there, 

Which  nothing  else  could  bring, 
A  sense  of  blessing  in  the  air. 

The  promise  of  the  spring. 

And  shall  the  days  of  cloud  and  cold 

In  truth  no  more  be  seen  ? 
The  snowdrop  through  the  loosened  mould 

Sends  up  its  spikes  of  green ; 
Fresh  gold  upon  the  willow  falls ; 

Soft  lights  the  uplands  steep,^  — 
A  strange,  sweet  change,  whose  coming  calls 

Such  loveliness  from  sleep. 

And  I  am  glad  as  any  bird ; 

It  is  a  joy  to  be  ;  ^ 
There  is  no  sound  of  life  fresh-stirred 

But  brings  delight  to  me. 
The  flow  of  brooks,  the  cock's  clear  call 

From  distant  hamlets  borne,  — 
My  pulse  beats  happy  time  with  all' 

These  voices  of  the  morn. 

O  Nature  !  thou  my  first,  best  friend, 

My  earliest  love,  and  best, 
With  us  was  never  any  end 

Of  confidence  and  rest : 

1  steep,  bathe,  i.e.,  soft  lights  cover  the  upland*. 

2  be,  to  have  life. 


54  SELECT  POETRY 

Gayly  arrayed  in  my  yellow  and  green, 
When  to  their  view  I  have  risen, 

Will  they  not  wonder  how  one  so  serene  ^ 
Came  from  so  dismal  a  prison  ? 

Many,  perhaps,  from  so  simple  a  flower 
This  useful  lesson  may  borrow,  — 

Patient  to-day  through  its  gloomiest  hour, 
We  come  out  the  brighter  to-morrow ! 

H.  F.  Gould. 

*  44  * 

THE  BEST   WEALTH. 

I  NEITHER  toil  nor  pray  for  wealth, 
No  riches  covet,  only  health,  — 
The  healthy  heart,  the  healthy  hand, 
And  healthy  brain  to  understand. 

With  these,  what  need  of  wealth  have  I  ? 
The  world  is  mine,  —  earth,  sea,  and  sky  ; 
And  every  star  and  every  flower 
To  give  me  pleasure  has  the  power. 

The  meanest  object  I  behold 
Has  teachings  rich  and  manifold. 
Can  cheer  the  heart,  the  spirits  raise. 
And  touch  the  chords  of  song  and  praise. 

i  serene,  calm,  unruffled. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  55 

The  sun,  the  moon,  each  lucent  ^  star, 
The  birds,  the  streams,  my  poets  are : 
What  other  pictures  need  I  see 
Than  God  the  artist  paints  for  me  ? 


*  45  * 
THE   VIOLET. 

Down  in  a  green  and  shady  bed 

A  modest  Violet  grew ; 
Its  stalk  was  bent,  it  hung  its  head, 

As  if  to  hide  from  view. 

And  yet  it  was  a  lovely  flower. 

Its  colors  bright  and  fair ; 
It  might  have  graced  a  rosy  bower, 

Instead  of  hiding  there. 

Yet  there  it  was  content  to  bloom, 

In  modest  tints  arrayed ; 
And  there  it  spread  its  sweet  perfume 

Within  the  silent  shade. 

Then  let  me  to  the  valley  go 

This  pretty  flower  to  see. 

That  I  may  also  learn  to  grow 

In  sweet  humility .^ 

Jane  Taylor. 

1  lucent,  shining,  2  humility,  humbleness,  lowliness. 


56  SELECT  POETRY 

*  46  * 
TRUST   IN   GOD,  AND   DO   THE   EIGHT. 

Courage,  brother !  do  not  stumble, 
Though  thy  path  be  dark  as  night ; 

There's  a  star  to  guide  the  humble : 
Trust  in  God,  and  do  the  right. 

Though  the  road  be  long  and  dreary, 
And  the  goal  be  out  of  sight, 

Foot  it  bravely,  strong  or  weary : 
Trust  in  God,  and  do  the  right. 

Perish,  policy  ^  and  cunning, 
Perish,  all  that  fears  the  light: 

Whether  losing,  whether  winning, 
Trust  in  God,  and  do  the  right. 

Fly  all  forms  of  guilty  passion ; 

Fiends  can  look  like  angels  bright ; 
Heed  no  custom,  school,  or  fashion : 

Trust  in  God,  and  do  the  right. 

.    Some  will  hate  thee,  some  will  love  thee. 
Some  will  flatter,  some  will  slight ; 
Cease  from  Man,  and  look  above  thee : 
Trust  in  God,  and  do  the  right. 

*  policy,  art  in  management. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  SI 

Simple  rule  and  surest  guiding, 
Inward  peace  and  shining  light ; 

Star  upon  our  path  abiding, 
Trust  in  God,  and  do  the  right. 

NOKMAN  MACLEOD. 


*  47  * 
SPEAK  GENTLY. 

Speak  gently ;  it  is  better  far 

To  rule  by  love  than  fear ; 
Speak  gently,  let  no  harsh  words  mar 

The  good  we  might  do  here. 

Speak  gently ;  love  doth  whisper  low 
The  vows  that  true  hearts  bind ; 

And  gently  friendship's  accents  flow ; 
Affection's  voice  is  kind. 

Speak  gently  to  the  young,  for  they 

Will  have  enough  to  bear ; 
Pass  through  this  life  as  best  they  may, 

'Tis  full  of  anxious  care. 

Speak  gently  to  the  aged  one ; 

Grieve  not  the  careworn  heart ; 
The  sands  of  life  are  nearly  run  ; 

Let  such  in  peace  depart. 


58  SELECT  POETRY 

Speak  gently,  kindly,  to  the  poor ; 

Let  no  harsh  tone  be  heard ; 
They  have  enough  they  must  endure, 

Without  an  unkind  word. 

Speak  gently  to  the  erring  ;  know 
They  must  have  toiled  in  vain ; 

Perchance  unkindness  made  them  so : 
Oh,  win  them  back  again ! 

Speak  gently ;  'tis  a  little  thing 
Dropped  in  the  heart's  deep  well : 

The  good,  the  joy  which  it  may  bring, 
Eternity  shall  tell. 


*  48  * 
OUR  DAILY  BREAD. 

The  raven  builds  her  nest  on  high, 

The  loud  winds  rock  her  craving  brood ; 

The  forest  echoes  to  their  cry : 
Who  gives  the  ravens  food  ? 

The  lion  goeth  forth  to  roam 

Wild  sandy  hills  and  plains  among ; 

He  leaves  his  little  whelps  at  home : 
Who  feeds  the  lion's  young  ? 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  59 

God  hears  the  hungry  lion's  howl ; 

He  feeds  the  ravens  hoarse  and  gray : 
Cares  he  alone  for  beast  and  fowl  ? 

Are  we  less  dear  than  they  ? 

Nay,  Christian  child,  kneel  down,  and  own 
The  hand  that  feeds  thee  day  by  day ; 

Nor  careless,  with  thy  lip  alone,  — 
For  "  all  things  needful "  pray. 

God  gave  to  thee  thy  home  so  dear ; 

Gave  store  enough  for  frugal  fare : 
If  richer  homes  have  better  cheer, 

'Twas  God  who  sent  it  there. 

But  better  far  than  garners  stored. 
Than  bread  that  honest  toil  may  win. 

Than  blessings  of  the  laden  board,  — 
The  food  he  gives  within. 

The  lion  and  the  raven  die ; 

They  only  ask  life's  common  bread : 
Our  souls  shall  live  eternally. 

And  they,  too,  must  be  fed. 

Then  not  alone  for  earthly  food 

Teach  us  with  lisping  tongue  to  pray ; 

The  heavenly  meat  that  makes  us  good, 
Lord,  give  us  day  by  day. 


60  SELECT  POETRY 

*  49  * 

THE   LOST  LOVE. 

She  dwelt  among  the  untrodden  ways 
Beside  tlie  springs  of  Dove,^ 

A  maid  whom  there  were  none  to  praise, 
And  very  few  to  love  : 

A  violet  by  a  mossy  stone, 

Half  hidden  from  the  eye  I 
Fair  as  a  star,  when  only  one 

Is  shining  in  the  sky. 

She  lived  unknown,  and  few  could  know 

When  Lucy  ceased  to  be ; 
But  she  is  in  her  grave,  and,  oh 

The  difference  to  me  ! 

"W.  Wordsworth. 

*  60  * 

HOW  THE  GATES   CAME  AJAR. 


'TwAS  whispered  one  morning  in  heaven 
How  the  little  child-angel  May, 

In  the  shade  of  the  great  white  portal,^ 
Sat  sorrowing  night  and  day ; 

*  Dove,  a  river  of  England,  Which  empties  into  the  Trent. 

*  portal,  passage-way. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS.  61 

How  she  said  to  the  stately  warden,^ 

He  of  the  key  and  bar, 
"  O  angel,  sweet  angel,  I  pray  you, 

Set  the  beautiful  gates  ajar  ! 

"  I  can  hear  my  mother  weeping ; 

She  is  lonely,  she  cannot  see 
A  glimmer  of  light  in  the  darkness, 

Where  the  gates  shut  after  me. 
Oh !  turn  me  the  key,  sweet  angel, 

The  splendor  will  shine  so  far !  " 
But  the  warden  answered,  "  I  dare  not 

Set  the  beautiful  gates  ajar." 

II. 

Then  rose  up  Mary  the  blessed, 

Sweet  Mary,  mother  of  Christ ; 
Her  hand  on  the  hand  of  the  angel 

She  laid,  and  her  touch  sufficed : 
Turned  was  the  key  in  the  portal, 

Fell  ringing  the  golden  bar ; 
And  lo  !  in  the  little  child's  fingers 

Stood  the  beautiful  gates  ajar. 

"  And  this  key,  for  further  using 
To  my  blessed  Son  shall  be  given," 

Said  Mary,  mother  of  Jesus, 
Tenderest  heart  in  heaven. 

Now,  never  a  sad-eyed  mother 

1  warden,  one  who  keeps  guard  or  ward. 


62  SELECT  POETRY 

But  may  catch  the  glory  afar, 
Since  safe  in  the  Lord  Christ's  bosom' 

Are  the  keys  of  the  gates  ajar,  — 
Close  hid  in  the  dear  Christ's  bosom, 

And  the  gates  forever  ajar  ! 

»  51  * 

SOWING. 

Are  we  sowing  the  seeds  of  kindness  ? 

They  shall  blossom  bright  ere  long ; 
Are  we  sowing  the  seeds  of  discord  ?  ^ 

They  shall  ripen  into  wrong  ; 
Are  we  sowing  seeds  of  honor  ? 

They  shall  bring  forth  golden  grain ; 
Are  we  sowing  seeds  of  falsehood  ? 

We  shall  yet  reap  bitter  pain ; 

—  Whatso'er  our  sowing  be. 
Reaping,  we  its  fruits  shall  see. 

We  can  never  be  too  careful 

What  the  seed  our  hands  shall  sow ; 
Love  from  love  is  sure  to  ripen ; 

Hate  from  hate  is  sure  to  grow. 
Seeds  of  good  or  ill  we  scatter 

Heedlessly  along  our  way ; 
But  a  glad  or  grievous  fruitage  ^ 

Waits  us  at  the  harvest  day. 

—  Whatso'er  our  sowing  be. 
Reaping,  we  its  fruits  must  see. 

1  discord,  strife.  2  fndtage,  fruit  collectively. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  63 

*  52  * 

SEEDS   AND   FRUITS. 

We  scatter  seeds  with  careless  hand, 

And  dream  we  ne'er  shall  see  them  more ; 
But  for  a  thousand  years 
Their  fruit  appears 
In  seeds  that  mar  the  land, 
Or  healthful  store ! 

The  deeds  we  do,  the  words  we  say, 

Into  still  air  they  seem  to  fleet ; 

We  count  them  ever  past ; 

But  they  shall  last  : 

In  the  dread  Judgment  they 

And  we  shall  meet. 

J.  Keble. 

*  53  * 

THE  BETTER  LAND. 

"I  HEAR  thee  speak  of  the  Better  Land ; 
Thou  call'st  its  children  a  happy  band ; 
Mother,  oh,  where  is  that  radiant  shore  ? 
Shall  we  not  seek  it,  and  weep  no  more  ? 
Is  it  where  the  flower  of  the  orange  blows. 
And    the    fire-flies    glance    through    the   myrtle 
boughs  ?  " 
"  Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  ! " 


64  SELECT  POETRY 

"  Is  it  where  the  feathery  pahn-trees  rise, 
And  the  date  grows  ripe  under  sunny  skies  ? 
Or  midst  the  green  islands  of  glittering  seas, 
Where  fragrant  forests  perfume  the  breeze, 
And  strange  bright  birds  oft  their  starry  wings 
Bear  the  rich  hues  of  all  glorious  things?  " 
"  Not  there,  not  there,  my  child." 

"  Is  it  far  away  in  some  region  old, 
Where  the  rivers  wander  o'er  sands  of  gold, 
Where  the  burning  rays  of  the  ruby  shine. 
And  the  diamond  lights  up  the  secret  mine. 
And  the  pearl  gleams  forth  from  the  coral  strand  ? 
Is  it  there,  dear  mother,  —  that  Better  Land?" 
"  Not  there,  not  there,  my  child. 

"  Eye  hath  not  seen  it,  my  gentle  boy ; 
Ear  hath  not  heard  its  deep  songs  of  joy ; 
Dreams  cannot  picture  a  world  so  fair ; 
Sorrow  and  Death  may  not  enter  there  ; 
Time  does  not  breathe  on  its  fadeless  bloom. 
For  beyond  the  clouds,  and  beyond  the  tomb, 
It  is  there,  it  is  there,  my  child  !  " 

Felicia  Hemans. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS.  65 

#  54  * 
SUMMER  MOODS. 

I  LOVE  at  eventide  ^  to  walk  alone 
Down  narrow  glens  o'erhung  with  dewy  thorn, 
Where,  from  the  long  grass  underneath,  the  snail, 
Jet  black,  creeps  out  and  sprouts  his  timid  horn. 
I  love  to  muse  o'er  meadows  newly  mown. 
Where  withering  grass  perfumes  the  sultry  air. 
Where  bees   search   refund,  with   sad  and  weary 

drone. 
In  vain,  for  flowers  that  bloomed  but  newly  there ; 
While  in  the  juicy  corn  the  hidden  quail 
Cries  "  Wet  my  foot ; "  and,  hid  as  thoughts  un- 
born. 
The  fairy-like  and  seldom  seen  land-rail  ^ 
Utters,  "  Craik,  craik  !  "  like  voices  underground, 
Right  glad  to  meet  the  evening's  dewy  veil, 

And  see  the  light  fade  into  gloom  around.    ^ 

J.  Clare. 

*  55  * 
THE  DAFFODILS. 

1  WANDERED  loncly  as  a  cloud 

That  floats  on  high  o'er  vales  and  hills, 
When  all  at  once  I  saw  a  crowd, 

A  host  of  golden  dafl'odils, 
Beside  the  lake,  beneath  the  trees. 
Fluttering  and  dancing  in  the  breeze. 

^  eventide,  evening  ('  tide'  originally  meant '  time  ')• 

2  land-rail,  also  called  the  corn-crake,  in  allied  to  the  snipe. 


66  SELECT  POETRY 

Continuous  ^  as  the  stars  that  shine 
And  twinkle  on  the  milky  way, 

They  stretched  in  never-ending  line 
Along  the  margin  ^  of  a  bay : 

Ten  thousand  saw  I  at  a  glance, 

Tossing  their  heads  in  sprightly  dance. 

The  waves  beside  them  danced,  but  they 
Outdid  'the  sparkling  waves  in  glee  :  — 

A  poet  could  not  but  be  gay 
In  such  a  jocund  company. 

I  gazed,  and  gazed,  but  little  thought 

What  wealth  ^  the  show  to  me  had  brought ; 

For  oft,  when  on  my  couch  I  lie 
In  vacant  or  in  pensive  mood,* 

They  flash  upon  that  inward  eye  ^ 
Which  is  the  bliss  of  solitude; 

And  then  my  heart  with  pleasure  fills, 
And  dances  with  the  daffodils. 

W.  Wordsworth. 

*  56  * 
THE   CREATION. 

All  things  bright  and  beautiful, 
All  creatures  great  and  small, 

All  things  wise  and  wonderful. 
The  Lord  God  made  them  all. 

1  con^inMOMS,  close  together.  s  icealth,  hcnGHi. 

2  marghi,  edge.  *  idle  or  thoughtful. 

5  inward  eye,  thought. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS,  67 

Each  little  flower  that  opens, 

Each  little  bird  that  sings, 
He  made  their  glowing  colors. 

He  made  their  tiny  wings. 

The  rich  man  in  his  castle, 

The  poor  man  at  his  gate, 
God  made  them,  high  or  lowly, 

And  ordered  their  estate.^ 

The  purple-headed  ^  mountain. 

The  river  running  by. 
The  sunset,  and  the  morning 

That  brightens  up  the  sky. 

The  cold  wind  in  the  winter. 

The  pleasant  summer  sun. 
The  ripe  fruits  in  the  garden,  — 

He  made  them  every  one. 

The  tall  trees  in  the  greenwood. 
The  meadows  where  we  play, 

The  rushes  by  the  water 
We  gather  every  day,  — 

He  gave  us  eyes  to  see  them. 
And  lips  that  we  might  tell 

How  great  is  God  Almighty 
Who  has  made  all  things  well. 

C.  F.  Alexander. 

1  estate,  condition  in  life,  rank. 

"  purple-headed,  the  top  of  a  purple  color,  because  of  the  distance. 


TO  SELECT   POETRY 

*  58  * 

THE   SWEET   SONG  OF   SONGS. 

The  leaf-tongues  of  the  forest,  the  fiower-lips  of 

the  sod, 
The  happy  birds  that  hymn  their  rapture  in  the 

ear  of  God, 
The  summer  wind  that  bringeth  music  over  land 

and  sea. 
Have  each  a  voice  that  singeth  this  sweet  song  of 

songs  to  me  :  — 
"  This  world  is  full  of  beauty,  like  other  worlds 

above, 

And   if    we   did   our   duty   it   might   be   full   of 

love." 

G.  Massey. 

*  59  * 
SONG  OF  LIFE. 

A  TRAVELLER  through  a  dusty  road 

Strewed  acorns  on  the  lea. 
And  one  took  root  and  sprouted  up 

And  grew  into  a  tree. 

Love  sought  its  shade  at  even-time 

To  breathe  its  early  vows, 
And  Age  was  pleased,  in  heats  of  noon, 

To  bask  beneath  its  boughs  : 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  71 

The  dormouse  loved  its  dangling  twigs, 

The  birds  sweet  music  bore : 
It  stood  a  glory  in  its  place,  -r- 

A  blessing  evermore  ! 

A  little  spring  had  lost  its  way 

Amid  the  grass  and  fern ; 
A  passing  stranger  scooped  a  well 

Where  weary  men  might  turn. 

He  walled  it  in,  and  hung  with  care 

A  ladle  at  the  brink ; 
He  thought  not  of  the  deed  he  did, 

But  judged  that.  Toil  might  drink. 

He  passed  again,  and  lo !  the  well. 

By  summers  never  dried. 
Had  cooled  ten  thousand  parched  tongues, 

And  saved  a  life  beside. 

A  dreamer  dropped  a  random  thought ; 

'Twas  old,  and  yet  was  new  — 
A  simple  fancy  of  the  brain. 

But  strong  in  being 'true  ; 

It  shone  upon  a  genial  mind. 

And  lo  !  its  light  became 
A  lamp  of  life,  a  beacon  ray, 

A  monitory  flame. 

The  thought  was  small  —  its  issue  great : 
A  watch-fire  on  the  hill. 


72  SELECT  POETRY 

It  sheds  its  radiance  far  adown, 
And  cheers  the  valley  still ! 

A  nameless  man,  amid  a  crowd 
That  thronged  the  daily  mart 

Let  fall  a  word  of  Hope  and  Love 
Unstudied  from  the  heart  — 

A  whisper  on  the  tumult  thrown, 

A  transitory  breath,  — 
It  raised  a  brother  from  the  dust, 

It  saved  a  soul  from  death. 

O  germ !  O  fount !  O  word  of  love  I 
O  thought  at  random  ^  cast ! 

Ye  were  but  little  at  the  first. 
But  mighty  at  the  last. 

C.  Mackat. 

*  60  * 
GOOD  LIFE,   LONG  LIFE. 

He  liveth  long  who  liveth  well ; 

All  else  is  life  but  flung  away : 
He  liveth  longest  who  can  tell 

Of  true  things  truly  done  each  day. 

Then  fill  each  hour  with  what  will  last ; 

Buy  up  the  moments  as  they  go : 
The  life  above,  when  this  is  past. 

Is  the  ripe  fruit  of  life  below. 

1  at  random,  without  any  aim  or  purpose. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  tS 

Sow  love,  and  taste  its  fruitage  pure, 
Sow  peace,  and  reap  its  harvest  bright, 

Sow  sunbeams  on  the  rock  and  moor, 
And  find  a  harvest-home  of  light. 

H.   BONAB. 


*    61    * 

THE  NOBLE  NATURE. 

It  is  not  growing  like  a  tree 

In  bulk  doth  make  men  better  be ; 

Or  standing  long  an  oak,  three  hundred  year. 

To  fall  a  log  at  last,  dry,  bald,  and  sear :  ^ 

A  lily  of  a  day 

Is  fairer  far  in  May, 
Although  it  fall  and  die  that  night,  — 
It  was  the  plant  and  flower  of  Light : 
In  small  proportions  we  just  beauties  see. 
And  in  short  measures  life  may  perfect  be. 

Ben  Jonson. 

*  62  * 

OUR  STATE. 

The  South  land  boasts  its  teeming  cane ; 
The  prairied  West,  its  heavy  grain ; 
And  sunset's  radiant  gates  unfold 
On  rising  marts  and  sands  of  gold. 

*  sear,  withered. 


74  SELECT  POETRY 

Rough,  bleak,  and  hard,  our  little  State 
Is  scant  of  soil,  of  limits  strait ;  ^ 
Her  yellow  sands  are  sands  alone, 
Her  only  mines  are  ice  and  stone. 

From  autumn  frost  to  April  rain. 
Too  long  her  winter  woods  complain ; 
From  budding  flower  to  falling  leaf, 
Her  summer  time  is  all  too  brief. 

Yet  on  her  rocks  and  on  her  sands 
And  wintry  hills  the'schoolhouse  stands  ; 
And  what  her  rugged  soil  denies 
The  harvest  of  the  mind  supplies. 

The  riches  of  the  Commonwealth  ^ 
Are  free  strong  minds  and  hearts  of  health ; 
And,  more  to  her  than  gold  or  grain. 
The  cunning  hand  and  cultured  brain. 

For  well  she  keeps  her  ancient  stock,  — 
The  stubborn  strength  of  Pilgrim  Rock ; 
And  still  maintains  with  milder  laws 
And  clearer  light,  the  Good  Old  Cause  ! 

Nor  heeds  the  sceptic's  puny  hands. 

While  near  her  school  the  church-spire  stands ; 

Nor  fears  the  blinded  bigot's  rule. 

While  near  her  church-spire  stands  the  school. 

J.  G.  Whittieb. 
1  strait,  limited.  ^  Commonwealth,  the  State. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  75 

*  63  * 

ABOU  BEX  ADHEM  AND  THE  ANGEL. 

Abou  Ben  Adhem  (may  his  tribe  increase  I) 
Awoke  one  night  from  a  deep  dream  of  peace, 
And  saw,  within  the  moonlight  in  his  room. 
Making  it  rich,  and  like  a  lily  in  bloom, 
An  Angel  writing  in  a  book  of  gold. 

E:sceeding  peace  had  made  Ben  Adhem  bold, 

And  to  the  Presence  in  the  room  he  said, 

"What   writest   thou?"     The    Vision    raised  its 

head, 
And  with  a  look  made  of  all  sweet  ^  accord  ^ 
Answered,    "The   names   of  those  who  love  the 

Lord." 

"  And  is  mine  one  ?  "  said  Abou.     "  Nay,  not  so," 
Replied  the  Angel.     Abou  spoke  more  low. 
But  cheerly  still,  and  said,  "  I  pray  thee,  then. 
Write  me  as  one  that  loves  his  fellow  men." 

The  Angel  wrote  and  vanished.     The  next  night 

It  came  again  with  a  great  wakening  light, 

And  showed  the  names  whom  love  of  God  liad 

blessed. 
And,  lo  I  Ben  Adhem's  name  led  all  the  rest. 

Leigh  Hunt. 
1  all  sweet,  wholly  or  very  sweet.  2  accord,  harmony. 


76  SELECT  POETRY 

*  64  * 

THE   THRUSH'S   NEST. 

Within  a  thick  and  spreading  hawthorn  bush 

That  overhung  a  mole-hill  large  and  round, 
I  heard  from  morn  to  morn  a  merry  thrush 

Sing  hymns  of  rapture,  while  I  drank  the  sound 
With  joy ;  and  oft,  an  unintruding  guest, 

I  watched  her  secret  toils  from  day  to  day. 
How  true  she  warped  the  moss  to  form  her  nest, 

And  modelled  it  within  with  wool  and  clay. 

And  by  and  by,  like  heath-bells  gilt  with  dew, 
There  lay  her  shining  eggs  as  bright  as  flowers, 

Ink-spotted  over,  shells  of  green  and  blue ; 
And  there  I  witnessed  in  the  summer  hours 

A  brood  of  Nature's  minstrels  chirp  and  fly, 
Glad  as  the  sunshine  and  the  laughing  sky. 

J.  Clakb. 

*  QS  * 

THE  BIRD   IN  A   CAGE. 

Oh  !  who  would  keep  a  little  bird  confined. 
When  cowslip  ^  bells  are  nodding  in  the  wind. 
When  every  hedge  as  with  "  good-morrow  "  rings. 
And    heard   from   wood   to   wood   the   blackbird 
sings  ? 

1  cowslip,  the  English  cowslip,  —  a  species  of  primrose. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  77 

Oh !  who  would  keep  a  little  bird  confined 
In  his  cold  wiry  prison  ?    Let  him  fly, 
And  hear  him  sing,  "  How  sweet  is  Liberty! " 

W.  L.  Bowles. 


*  66  * 
THE  WORM. 

Turn",  turn,  thy  hasty  foot  aside, 
Nor  crush  that  helpless  worm ! 

The  frame  thy  wayward  ^  looks  deride 
Required  a  God  to  form. 

The  common  Lord  of  all  that  move, 
From  whom  thy  being  flowed, 

A  portion  of  his  boundless  love 
On  that  poor  worm  bestowed. 

The  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  he  made 

For  all  his  creatures  free. 
And  spread  o'er  earth  the  grassy  blade, 

For  worms,  as  well  as  thee. 

Let  them  enjoy  their  little  day, 
Their  humble  bliss  receive  ; 

Oh !  do  not  lightly  take  away 
The  life  thou  canst  not  give. 

T.   GiSBORNE. 

1  wayward,  wilful. 


78  SELECT  POETRY 


67  * 


THE  NIGHTINGALE   AND   THE   GLOW- 
WORM. 

A  NIGHTINGALE,  that  all  day  long 
Had  cheered  the  village  with  his  song, 
Nor  yet  at  eve  his  note  suspended. 
Nor  yet  when  eventide  was  ended, 
Began  to  feel,  as  well  he  might. 
The  keen  demands  of  appetite  ; 
When,  looking  eagerly  around. 
He  spied  far  oif,  upon  the  ground, 
A  something  shining  in  the  dark, 
And  knew  the  Glowworm  by  his  spark: 
So,  stooping  down  from  hawthorn  top. 
He  thought  to  put  him  in  his  crop. 
The  worm,  aware  of  his  intent. 
Harangued  him  thus,  right  eloquent : 
"  Did  you  admire  my  lamp,"  quoth  he, 
"  As  much  as  I  your  minstrelsy. 
You  would  abhor  to  do  me  wrong, 
As  much  as  I  to  spoil  your  song ; 
For  'twas  the  self-same  Power  Divine 
Taught  you  to  sing  and  me  to  shine, 
That  you  with  music,  I  with  light, 
Might  beautify  and  cheer  the  night." 
The  songster  heard  this  short  oration, 
And,  warbling  out  his  approbation. 
Released  him,  as  my  story  tells. 
And  found  a  supper  somewhere  else. 

W.    COWPER. 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS.  79 

*  68  * 

BEAUTIFUL   THINGS. 

What  millions  of  beautiful  things  there  must  be 
In  this  mighty  world !     Who  could  reckon  them 

all?  — 
The  tossing,  the  foaming,  the  wide  flowing  sea, 
And  thousands  of  rivers  that  into  it  fall. 

Oh,  there  are   the  mountains,  half  covered  with 

snow ; 
And  tall  and  dark  trees,  like  a  girdle  of  green ; 
And  waters  that  wind  in  the  valleys  below, 
Or  roar  in  the  caverns,  too  deep  to  be  seen. 

Vast  caves  in  the  earth,  full  of  wonderful  things, 
The  bones  of  strange  animals,  jewels,  and  spars  ;  ^ 
Or,  far  up  in  Iceland,  the  hot  boiling  springs. 
Like  fountains  of  feathers  or  showers  of  stars  ! 

Here  spread  the  sweet  meadows  with  thousands  of 

flowers ; 
Far  away  are  old  woods  that  for  ages  have  grown : 
Wild  elephants  sleep  in  the  shade  of  their  bowers. 
Or  troops  of  young  antelopes  think  them  their  own. 

Oh,  yes,  they  are  glorious  all  to  behold. 
And  pleasant  to  read  of,  and  curious  to  know ; 
And  something  of  God  and  his  wisdom  we're  told, 
atever  we  look  at,  wherever  we  go. 

Jane  Taylor. 
1  spar,  a  shining  mineral. 


80  SELECT  POETRY 

*  69  *     * 
LOSS   OF  THE  ROYAL  GEORGE. 

Toll  for  the  Brave  ! 

The  brave  that  are  no  more  I 
All  sunk  beneath  the  wave 

Fast  by  ^  their  native  shore  I 

Eight  hundred  of  the  brave, 
Whose  courage  well  was  tried, 

Had  make  the  vessel  heel,^ 
And  laid  her  on  her  side. 

A  land  breeze  shook  the  shrouds,^ 

And  she  was  overset ; 
Down  went  the  Royal  George, 

With  all  her  crew  complete  I 

Toll  for  the  brave ! 

Brave  Kempenfelt  is  gone ; 
His  last  sea-fight  is  fought, 

His  work  of  glory  done. 

It  was  not  in  the  battle  ; 

No  tempest  gave  the  shock ; 
She  sprang  no  fatal  leak ;  * 

She  ran  upon  no  rock. 

>  faat  by,  near.  »  shrouds,  mast-ropes. 

'  heel,  lean  over-       *  spring  a  leak,  to  leak  by  naeans  of  a  sudden  breacb. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  81 

His  sword  was  in  its  sheath, 

His  fingers  held  the  pen, 
When  Kempenfelt  went  down 

With  twice  four  hundred  men. 

Weigh  ^  the  vessel  up. 

Once  dreaded  by  our  foes, 
And  mingle  with  our  cup  ^ 

The  tears  that  England  owes. 

Her  timbers  yet  are  sound. 

And  she  may  float  again, 
Full  charged  with  England's  thunder,^ 

And  plough  the  distant  main. 

But  Kempenfelt  is  gone, 

His  victories  are  o'er; 
And  he  and  his  eight  hundred 

Shall  plough  the  wave  no  more. 

W.   COWPER. 


The  Royal  George,  a  man-of-war  carrying  108  guns,  commanded  by 
Admiral  Kempenfelt,  while  partially  careened  to  have  her  seams  calked,  in 
Portsmouth  Harbor,  England,  was  overset  about  ten  a.m.,  Aug.  29,  1782. 
The  total  loss  was  believed  to  be  near  one  thousand  souls. 

*  loeight  lift.  2  ^up^  rejoicing.  »  thunder,  noise  of  cannon. 


82  SELECT  POETRY 

*  70  * 
HOW   THE   NEW  YEAR   CAME. 

The  sun  was  sinking  out  of  sight : 

"Bessie,"  said  Herbert,  "  have  you  heard? 
It's  really  true,  upon  my  word ! 

This  year  is  going  away  to-night ! 
It's  time  is  up,  they  say,  and  so 
At  midnight  it  will  have  to  go. 
And  right  away  another  year 
Will  come  along,  a  real  new  year, 
As  soft  as  any  mouse,  — 

So  soft,  we'll  hardly  hear  it  creep,  — 
Yes,  come  right  to  this  very  house, 

While  every  one's  asleep !  " 


Now  Bessie's  eyes  grew  wide  to  hear. 

"  Let's  keep  awake,"  she  cried,  "  and  so 

We'll  see  one  come  and  see  one  go. 
Two  years  at  once  !     Won't  that  be  queer  ? 

Let's  tell  che  New  Year  it  is  bad, 

We  want  the  one  we've  always  had, 
With  birds  and  flowers  and  things,  you  know, 

And  funny  ice  and  pretty  snow. 

It  had  my  birthday,  too,  in  May, 
And  yours  —  when  was  it  ?  and  you  know 

How  it  had  Fourth  o'  July  one  day. 
And  Christmas.     Oh,  it  mustrCt  go !  " 


FOR    YOUNG   FOLKS.  83 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  Herbert.     "  What  a  Bess  ! 

This  year  was  new  when  first  it  came ; 

The  next  one  will  be  just  the  same 
As  this  that's  going  now,  I  guess. 

—  Tliat's  nothing.     But  what  bothers  me 

Is  how  the  change  is  going  to  be. 

I  can't  see  how  one  year  can  go 

And  one  can  come  at  midnight,  so 

All  in  a  minute  :  that's  the  bother  ! 
I've  heard  them  say,  '  the  rolling  year : ' 

You'd  think  they'd  roll  on  one  another, 
Unless  they  knew  just  how  to  steer." 

The  speck  of  time  'twixt  night  and  day 
Was  close  at  hand.     Herbert  and  Bess 
Had  won  their  parents'  smiling  "  yes  " 

To  watch  the  old  year  go  away. 

Nurse  on  the  lounge  found  easy  rest 
Till  Bess  should  come  to  be  undrest : 
All  but  the  children  were  asleep, 
And  years  might  roll,  or  years  might  creep, 
For  all  they  cared ;  while  Bess  and  Bert, 

Who  never  stirred,  and  scarcely  spoke. 
Watched  the  great  clock,  awake,  alert, 

All  breathless  for  the  coming  stroke. 

Soon  Bessie  whispered,  "  Moll  don't  care." 
Moll  was  her  doll.     And  Herbert  said, 
"  The  clock's  so  far  up  overhead 

It  makes  me  wink  to  watch  it  there, 


84  SELECT  POETRY 

The  great  tall  thing !     Let's  look  inside." 
And  so  its  door  they  opened  wide. 
Tick-a-tick!     How  loud  it  sounded! 
Bessie's  heart  with  wonder  bounded. 
How  the  great  round  thing  that  hung 
Down  the  middle  swung  and  swung ! 
Tick^  a-tick^  a-tick,  a-tick, — 
Dear  how  loud  it  was,  and  quick ! 
Tick-a,  tick-a,  tick-a,  tick-a! 
Surely  it  was  growing  quicker  ! 
While  the  swinging  thing  kept  on, 
Back  arnd  forth,  and  never  done. 

There  !     It's  coming  !     Loud  and  clear 

Each  ringing  stroke  the  night  alarms. 

Bess,  screaming,  hid  in  Herbert's  arms. 
"  The  year !  "  he  cried,  ''  the  year  !  the  year !  " 

"Where?"   faltered    Bessie,    "which?     where, 
'bouts  ?  " 

But  still  "  The  year !  "  glad  Herbert  shouts  ; 

And  still  the  steady  strokes  rang  on 

Until  the  banished  year  was  gone. 

"  We've  seen  the  Old  Year  out  —  hurrah !  " 

"  Oh,  oh !  "  sobbed  Bessie,  "  call  mamma. 

I  don't  like  years  to  racket  so : 

It  frightens  me  to  hear  'em  go." 

But  Herbert  kissed  away  her  tears, 

And,  gently  soothing  all  her  fears. 

He  heard  the  New  Year  coming  quick,  — 

Tick^  a-tick^  a-tick^  a-tlck. 

Maky  Mapks  Dodge. 


FOR    YOUNG   FOLKS.  85 

*  71  * 

HOHENLINDEN.i 

On  Linden,  when  the  sun  was  low, 
All  bloodless  lay  the  untrodden  snow ; 
And  dark  as  winter  was  the  flow 
Of  Iser,^  rolling  rapidly. 

But  Linden  saw  another  sight. 
When  the  drum  beat  at  dead  of  night 
Commanding  fires  of  death  to  light 
The  darkness  of  her  scenery. 

By  torch  and  trumpet  fast  arrayed,^ 
Each  horseman  drew  his  battle-blade, 
And  furious  every  charger  *  neighed, 
To  join  the  dreadful  revelry.^ 

Then  shook  the  hills  with  thunder  riven ; 
Then  rushed  the  steed,  to  battle  driven ; 
And  louder  than  the  bolts  of  Heaven  ^ 
Far  flashed  the  red  artillery.^ 

*  This  battle,  which  was  witnessed  by  the  poot,  was  fought  Decem- 
ber 2,  1800,  between  the  Austrians  under  Archdulje  John,  and  the  Frencli 
under  Moreau,  in  a  forest  near  Munich.  Uoheniinden  means  High  Lime- 
treea. 

2  Iser  (pronounced  e'&er),  a  river  on  which  Munich  is  situated. 
8  arrayed,  drawn  up  ia  order,  ready  for  battle. 

*  charger,  war-horse. 

5  revelry,  the  noise  and  tumult  of  battle;  commojily,  loose  and  noisy 
festivity. 

6  than  the  thunder. 
1  artillery,  cannon. 


)  SELECT  POETRY. 

But  redder  yet  that  light  shall  glow 
On  Linden's  hills  of  stained  snow, 
And  bloodier  yet  the  torrent  flow 
Of  Iser,  rolling  rapidly. 

'Tis  morn;  but  scarce  yon  level  sun 
Can  pierce  the  war-clouds,  rolling  dun,* 
Where  furious  Frank  and  fiery  Hun^ 
Shout  in  their  sulphurous  canopy.^ 

The  combat  deepens.     On,  ye  Brave 
Who  rush  to  glory,  or  the  grave ! 
Wave,  Munich  !  *  all  thy  banners  wave. 
And  charge  with  all  thy  chivalry !  ^ 

Few,  few  shall  part  where  many  meet ! 
The  snow  shall  be  their  winding-sheet ; 
And  every  turf  beneath  their  feet 
Shall  be  a  soldier's  sepulchre.^ 

/>  *  /         T.  Campbell. 

r      ■^"  •    *     ■  *■ 

'  <?MK,  black,  gloomy.  Vxt\J 

*  J^ranA,  Frenchman ;  ITun,  Austrian. 

'  sutphuroxoK  canopy,  overhanging  smoke  from  guns. 

*  Munich  (pronounced  mu'nik). 
B  chivalry,  cavalry  or  horsemen. 
«  sepulchre yQx-dMQ. 


FOR    YOUNG   FOLKS.  87 

*  72  * 

A  TRAGIC  STORY. 

There  lived  a  sage  in  days  of  yore, 
And  he  a  handsome  pigtail  wore, 
But  wondered  much,  and  sorrowed  more, 
Because  it  hung  behind  him. 

He  mused  upon  this  curious  case, 
And  vowed  he'd  change  the  pigtail's  place, 
And  have  it  hanging  at  his  face. 
Not  dangling  there  behind  him. 

Says  he,  "  The  mystery  I've  found  I 
I'll  turn  me  round."  —  He  turned  him  round  ; 
But  still  it  hung  behind  him. 

Then  round  and  round,  and  out  and  in, 
All  day  the  puzzled  sage  did  spin : 
In  vain !  it  mattered  not  a  pin  ! 
The  pigtail  hung  behind  him. 

And  right  and  left,  and  round  about, 
And  up  and  down,  and  in  and  out 
He  turned ;  but  still  the  pigtail  stout 
Hung  steadily  behind  him. 

And  though  his  efforts  never  slack. 

And  though  he  twist,  and  twirl,  and  tack, 

Alas  I  still  faithful  to  his  back, 

The  pigtail  hangs  behind  him. 

W.  M.  Thackeray 
{From  the  German  of  Chamisso). 


88  SELECT  POETRY 

*  73  * 

THE   CAMEL'S   NOSE. 

OxCE  in  his  shop  a  workman  wrought, 
With  languid  head  and  listless  thought, 
When,  through  the  open  window's  space, 
Behold,  a  camel  thrust  his  face ! 
"  My  nose  is  cold,"  he  meekly  cried ;, 
"  Oh,  let  me  warm  it  by  thy  side !  " 

Since  no  denial  word  was  said. 

In  came  the  nose,  in  came  the  head : 

As  sure  as  sermon  follows  text. 

The  long  and  scraggy  neck  came  next ; 

And  then,  as  falls  the  threatening  storm, 

In  leaped  the  whole  ungainly  form. 

Aghast  the  owner  gazed  around. 
And  on  the  rude  invader  frowned. 
Convinced,  as  closer  still  he  pressed, 
There  was  no  room  for  such  a  guest ; 
Yet  more  astonished,  heard  him  say, 
"  If  thou  art  troubled,  go  away. 
For  in  this  place  I  choose  to  stay." 

O  youthful  hearts  to  gladness  born. 
Treat  not  this  Arab  lore  with  scorn ! 
To  evil  habits'  earliest  wile 
Lend  neither  ear,  nor  glance,  nor  smile ; 
Choke  the  dark  fountain  ere  it  flows. 
Nor  e'en  admit  the  camel's  nose ! 

Mrs.  L.  H.  Sigouhney. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  93 

*  Y7  * 
THE   HEAVENS   DECLARE   GOD'S   GLORY. 

The  spacious  firmament  on  higli, 
Witli  all  the  blue  ethereal  ^  sky, 
And  spangled  heavens,  a  shining  frame, 
Their  great  Original  proclaim. 

The  unwearied  sun,  from  day  to  day, 
Doth  his  Creator's  power  display, 
And  publishes  to  every  land 
The  work  of  an  Almighty  hand. 

Soon  as  the  evening  shades  prevail. 
The  moon  takes  up  the  wondrous  tale , 
And  nightly  to  the  listening  earth 
Repeats  the  story  of  her  birth ; 

While  all  the  stars  that  round  her  burn, 
And  all  the  planets,  in  their  turn. 
Confirm  the  tidings  as  they  roll. 
And  spread  the  truth  from  pole  to  pole. 

What  though,  in  solemn  silence,  all 
Move  round  this  great  terrestrial  ^  ball  ? 
What  though  no  real  voice  nor  sound 
Amid  their  radiant  orbs  be  found  ? 

^  ethereal,  heavenly.  *  terrestrial,  earthly. 


94  SELECT  POETRY 

In  Reason's  ear  they  all  rejoice, 
And  utter  forth  a  glorious  voice,  — 
Forever  singing,  as  they  shine, 
"  The  hand  that  made  us  is  divine." 

Joseph  Addison. 

*  78  * 

BUGLE  SONG. 

The  splendor  falls  on  castle  walls, 

And  snowy  summits  old  in  story ; 
The  long  light  shakes  across  the  lakes, 
And  the  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory. 
Blow,  bugle,  blow,  set  the  wild  echoes  flying : 
Blow,  bugle ;  answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

Oh  hark !  oh  hear !  how  thin  and  clear. 

And  thinner,  clearer,  farther  going ! 
Oh  sweet  and  far  from  cliff  and  scar  ^ 
The  horns  of  Elfland  ^  faintly  blowing ! 
Blow,  let  us  hear  the  purple  glens  replying : 
Blow,  bugle ;  answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

O  Love,  they  die  in  yon  rich  sky. 

They  faint  on  hill,  or  field,  or  river : 
Our  echoes  roll  from  soul  to  soul. 
And  grow  forever  and  forever : 
Blow,  bugle,  blow,  set  the  wild  echoes  flying. 
And  answer,  echoes,  answer,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

Alfred  Tennyson. 

*  scar,  a  bare  and  broken  place  on  the  side  of  a  mountain. 
»  Elfland,  fairy-land. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  95 

I 


*  79  * 
ASPIRATIONS   OF   YOUTH. 

Higher,  higher,  will  we  climb 

Up  the  mount  of  glory, 
That  our  names  may  live  through  time 

In  our  country's  story : 
Happy,  when  her  welfare  calls, 
He  who  conquers,  he  who  falls. 

Deeper,  deeper,  let  us  toil 
In  the  mines  of  knowledge, 

Nature's  wealth  and  Learning's  spoil 
Win  from  school  and  college ; 

Delve  we  there  for  richer  gems 

Than  the  stars  of  diadems. 

Onward,  onward,  may  we  press 
Through  the  path  of  duty  ; 

Virtue  is  true  happiness. 
Excellence  true  beauty : 

Minds  are  of  celestial  birth, 

Make  we,  then,  a  heaven  of  earth. 

Closer,  closer,  let  us  knit 
Hearts  and  hands  together, 

Where  our  fireside  comforts  sit 
In  the  wildest  weather : 

Oh,  they  wander  wide  who  roam 

For  the  joys  of  life  from  home. 

James  Montgomery. 


96  SELECT  POETRY 

*  80  * 
GEORGE   NIDIVER. 

Men  have  done  brave  deeds, 

And  bards  have  sung  them  well 

I  of  George  Nid'iver 
Now  the  tale  will  tell. 

In  Californian  mountains, 
A  hunter  bold  was  he  : 

Keen  his  eye  and  sure  his  aim 
As  any  you  should  see. 

A  little  Indian  boy 

Followed  him  everywhere, 

Eager  to  share  the  hunter's  joy, 
The  hunter's  meal  to  share  : 

And  when  the  bird  or  deer 
Fell  by  the  hunter's  skill, 

The  boy  was  always  near 
To  help  with  right  good-will. 

One  day  as  through  the  cleft 
Between  two  mountains  steep. 

Shut  in  both  right  and  left, 
Their  questing  way  they  keep, 

They  see  two  grizzly  bears. 
With  hunger  fierce  and  fell, 

Rush  at  them  unawares, 

Rio-ht  down  the  narrow  dell. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  97 

The  boy  turned  round  with  screams, 

And  ran  with  terror  wild : 
One  of  the  pair  of  savage  beasts 

Pursued  the  shrieking  child. 

The  hunter  raised  his  gun,  — 
He  knew  one  charge  was  all,  — 

And  through  the  boy's  pursuing  foe 
He  sent  his  only  ball. 

The  other  bear,  now  furious, 

Came  on  with  dreadful  pace ; 
The  hunter  stood  unarmed, 

And  met  him  face  to  face. 

I  say  unarmed  he  stood : 

Against  those  frightful  paws, 
For  rifle  butt  or  club  of  wood. 

Could  stand  no  more  than  straws. 

George  Nidiver  stood  still. 

And  looked  him  in  the  face ; 
The  wild  beast  stopped  amazed. 

Then  came  with  slackening  pace. 

Still  firm  the  hunter  stood. 

Although  his  heart  beat  high  ; 
Again  the  creature  stopped, 

And  gazed  with  wondering  eye. 

The  hunter  met  his  gaze. 
Nor  yet  an  inch  gave  way ; 


98  SELECT  POETRY 

The  bear  turned  slowly  round 
And  slowly  moved  away  • 

What  thoughts  were  in  his  mind 

It  would  be  hard  to  spell ;  ^ 
What  thoughts  were  in  George  Nidiver's 

I  rather  guess  than  tell. 

Be  sure  that  rifle's  aim,  ^ 

Swift  choice  of  generous  part, 

Showed,  in  its  passing  gleam. 
The  depths  of  a  brave  heart. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 

*  81  * 

HOW   SLEEP   THE   BRAVE! 

How  sleep  the  Brave  who  sink  to  rest 
By  all  their  country's  wishes  blest ! 
When  Spring,  with  dcAvy  fingers  cold. 
Returns  to  deck  their  hallowed  mould, 
She  there  shall  dress  a  sweeter  sod 
Than  Fancy's  feet  have  ever  trod.  « 

By  fairy  hands  their  knell  is  rung ; 
By  forms  unseen  their  dirge  is  sung ; 
There  Honor  comes,  a  pilgrim  gray, 
To  bless  the  turf  that  wraps  their  clay ; 
And  Freedom  shall  awhile  repair. 
To  dwell  a  weeping  hermit  there ! 

W.  Collins. 

*  spell,  relate  —  an  old  use  of  the  word. 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  99 

*  82  * 
THE   BUILDERS. 

All  are  architects  of  Fate, 

Working  in  these  walls  of  Time ; 

Some  with  massive  deeds  and  great, 
Some  with  ornaments  of  rhyme. 

Nothing  useless  is,  or  low ;  ^ 

Each  thing  in  its  place  is  best ; 

And  what  seems  but  idle  show 
Strengthens  and  supports  the  rest. 

For  the  structure  that  we  raise, 

Time  is  with  materials  filled : 
Our  to-days  and  yesterdays 

Are  the  blocks  with  which  we  build. 

Truly  shape  and  fashion  these  ; 

Leave  no  yawning  gaps  between  : 
Think  not,  because  no  man  sees. 

Such  things  will  remain  unseen. 

Li  the  elder  days  of  Art 

Builders  wrought  with  greatest  care 
Each  minute  ^  and  unseen  part ; 

For  the  gods  see  everywhere. 

*  mimtte',  very  small  or  little. 


100  SELECT  POETRY 

Let  us  do  our  work  as  well, 

Both  the  unseen  and  the  seen,  — 

Make  the  house,  where  Gods  may  dwelL 
Beautiful,  entire,  and  clean. 

Else  our  lives  are  incomplete. 
Standing  in  these  walls  of  Time, 

Broken  stairways,  where  the  feet 
Stumble  as  they  seek  to  climb. 

Build  to-day,  then,  strong  and  sure. 
With  a  firm  and  ample  base  ;  « 

And  ascending  and  secure 

Shall  to-morrow  find  its  place. 

Thus  alone  can  we  attain 

To  those  turrets,  where  the  eye 

Sees  the  world  as  one  vast  plain,     - 
And  one  boundless  reach  of  sky. 

H.  W.  Longfellow. 

*  83  * 
THE   NOBLY  BORN. 

Who  counts  himself  as  nobly  born 

Is  noble  in  despite  of  place ; 
And  honors  are  but  brands  to  one 

Who  wears  them  not  with  nature's  grace. 

The  prince  may  sit  with  clown  or  churl, 
Nor  feel  himself  disgraced  thereby  ; 


FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  101 

But  he  who  has  but  small  esteem 
Husbands  that  little  carefully. 

Then,  be  thou  peasant,  be  thou  peer, 
Count  it  still  more  thou  art  thine  own : 

Stand  on  a  larger  heraldry  ^ 

Than  that  of  nation  or  of  zone.^ 

What  though  not  bid  to  knightly  halls  ? 

Those  halls  have  missed  a  courtly  guest ; 
That  mansion  is  not  privileged,^ 

Which  is  not  open  to  the  best. 

Give  honor  due  when  custom  asks, 
Nor  wrangle  for  this  lesser  claim ; 

It  is  not  to  be  destitute, 

To  have  the  thing  without  the  name. 

Then  dost  thou  come  of  gentle  blood, 
Disgrace  not  thy  good  company ; 

If  lowly  born,  so  bear  thyself 

That  gentle  blood  may  come  of  thee. 

Strive  not  with  pain  to  scale  the  height 
Of  some  fair  garden's  petty  wall, 

But  climb  the  open  mountain  side. 
Whose  summit  rises  over  all. 

E.  S.  H. 

1  that  is,  be  a  true  man,  free  from  narrow  prejudices. 

2  gone,  a  great  division  of  the  earth's  surface, 
s  privileged,  granted  some  benefit. 


102  SELECT  POETRY 

*  84  * 
DIVINE  CARE/ 

The  insect  that  with  puny  wing 
Just  shoots  along  the  summer  ray, 

The  floweret  which  the  breath  of  spring 
Wakes  into  life  for  half  a  day, 

The  smallest  mote,  the  slenderest  hair,  — 

All  feel  our  common  Father's  care. 

E'en  from  the  glories  of  his  throne 
He  bends  to  view  this  wandering  ball; 

Sees  all,  as  if  that  all  were  one  ; 
Loves  one,  as  if  that  one  were  all ; 

Rolls  the  swift  planets  in  their  spheres, 

And  counts  the  sinner's  lonely  tears. 

*  85  * 

THE   CORAL   GROVE. 

Deep  in  the  wave  is  a  coral  grove, 

Where  the  purple  mullet  and  gold-fish  rove ; 

Where  the  sea-flower  spreads  its  leaves  of  blue 

That  never  are  wet  with  falling  dew. 

But  in  bright  and  changeful  beauty  shine, 

Far  down  in  the  green  and  glassy  brine. 

The  floor  is  of  sand,  like  the  mountain  drift ; 
And  the  pearl-shells  spangle  the  flinty  snow; 
From  coral  rocks  tlie  sea-plants  lift 
Their  boughs  where  the  tides  and  billows  flow. 


\ 

FOR    YOUNG  FOLKS.  103 

The  water  is  calm  and  still  below, 
For  the  winds  and  waves  are  absent  there ; 
And  the  sands  are  bright  as  the  stars  that  glow 
In  the  motionless  fields  of  upper  air. 

There,  with  its  waving  blade  of  green. 

The  sea-flag  streams  through  the  silent  water ; 

And  the  crimson  leaf  of  the  dulse  ^  is  seen 

To  blush  like  a  banner  bathed  in  slaughter. 

There,  with  a  light  vind  easy  motion. 

The  fan-coral  sweeps  through  the  clear  deep  sea ; 

And  the  yellow  and  scarlet  tufts  of  ocean 

Are  bending  like  corn  on  the  upland  lea; 

And  life,  in  rare  and  beautifid  forms. 

Is  sporting  amid  those  bowers  of  stone, 

And  is  safe  when  the  wrathful  Spirit  of  storms 

Has  made  the  top  of  the  wave  his  own. 

And  when  the  ship  from  his  fury  flies. 
Where  the  myriad  voices  of  Ocean  roar  ; 
When  the  wind-god  frowns  in  the  murky  skies, 
And  demons  are  waiting  the  wreck  on  shore,  — 
Then,  far  below,  in  the  peaceful  sea. 
The  purple  mullet  and  gold-fish  rove,- 
While  the  waters  murmur  tranquilly 
Through  the  bending  twigs  of  the  coral  grove. 

J.  G.  Percival. 

1  dulse,  a  sea-weed  of  a  reddish-brown  color. 


104  SELECT  POETRY 

*  86  * 
COXTENTMEXT. 

Why  need  I  strive  and  sigh  for  wealth  ? 

It  is  enough  for  me 
That  HeaTen  hath  sent  me  strength  and  health, 

A  spirit  glad  and  free : 
Grateful  these  blessLogs  to  receive, 
I  sing  my  hymn  at  mom  and  eve. 

On  some  what  floods  of  riches  flow ! 

House,  herds,  and  gold  have  they; 
Yet  life's  best  joys  they  never  know. 

But  fret  their  hours  away. 
The  more  they  have,  they  seek  increase :  ^ 
C<MiipIaints  and  cravings  never  cease. 

A  vale  of  gloom  tMs  world  they  call ; 

But,  oh!  I  And  it  fair: 
Much  happiness  it  has  for  all. 

And  none  aie  grudged  a  share. 
The  little  birds  on  new-tried  wing. 
And  insects,  revel  in  the  spring. 

For  love'of  us,  bills,  woods,  and  plains 

In  beauteous  hues  are  clad ; 
And  birds  sing  far  and  near  sweet  strains, 

Caught  up  by  echoes  glad. 
^  Rise,^  sii^  the  lark,  ^  your  tasks  to  ply : " 
The  nightingale  sings,  ^  Lullaby." 


FOR   YOUNG  FOLKS.  105 

And  when  the  obedient  sun  goes  forth. 

And  all  like  gold  appears ; 
When  bloom  o'erspreads  the  glowing  earth. 

And  fields  have  ripening  ears,  — 
I  think  those  glories  that  I  see 
My  kind  Creator  made  for  me. 

Theirtoud  I  thank  the  Lord  above. 

And  saj  in  joj-ful  mood. 
His  love,  it  is  a  Father's  love. 

He  wills  to  all  men  good. 

Then  let  us  ever  grateful  live, 

Enjoying  all  He  deigns  to  give. 

JoHAjnr  MnT.g« 


•  87  ♦ 
TRUST. 

I  KNOW  not  if  or  dark  or  bright 

Shall  be  my  lot ; 
If  that  wherein  my  hopes  delight 

Be  best,  or  not. 

It  may  be  mine  to  drag  for  years 

Toil's  heavy  chain ; 
Or  day  and  night  my  meat  be  tears 

On  bed  of  pain. 

Dear  faces  may  surround  my  hearth 
With  smiles  and  glee  ; 

Or  I  may  dwell  alone,  and  mirth 
Be  strange  to  me. 


106  SELECT  POETRY. 

My  bark  is  wafted  to  the  strand 

By  breath  divine ; 
And  on  the  helm  there  rests  a  hand 

Other  than  mine. 

One  who  has  known  in  storms  to  sail 

I  have  on  board  ; 
Above  the  raving  of  the  gale 

I  hear  my  Lord. 

He  holds  me  when  the  billows  smite,  — 

I  shall  not  fall. 
If  sharp,  'tis  short ;  if  long,  'tis  light,  — 

He  tempers  all. 

Safe  to  the  land,  safe  to  the  land,  — 

The  end  is  this. 
And  then  with  Him  go  hand  in  hand 

Far  into  bliss. 

Dean  of  Canterbury. 


Press  of  Rand,  Avery,  tfe  Co. 


'As    interesti7ig   as    Hobinson    Crusoe. 


YOUNG  FOLKS'  BOOK 

OF 

AMERICAN   EXPLORERS, 

BY 

THOMAS    WENTWORTH    HIGGINSON. 


UNIFORM    WITH    "HIGGINSON'S    YOUNG    FOLKS'    HISTORY    OF 
THE   UNITED   STATES." 

.    i6mo.     Cloth.     Illustrated.     ^1.50. 


"The  author  of  this  marvellously  interesting  book  has  acted  on  the 
sensible  idea  that  accounts  of  the  adventures  and  experiences  of  early- 
navigators  to  America  from  Europe  must  be  of  quite  as  great  interest 
as  the  tale  of  Robinson  Crusoe;  and  takmg,  as  he  has,  extracts  from 
*he  veritable  histories  of  •  the  ancient  mariners  who  sought  these  then 
anknown   shores,    he    has   furnished    interesting   and    healthful   reading, 

which    is    ADMIRABLY     CALCULATED     TO    GIVE    THE    YOUNG    A    TASTE 

FOR  SEARCHING  HISTORY.  He  gives  some  account  of  the  early  Norse- 
men and  their  discoveries,  of  Columbus,  De  Soto,  Captain  John  Smith, 
and  others,  including  Pocahontas,  Miles  Standish,  the  Pilgrims,  and  all 
prominent  persons  in  the  settlement  of  the  colonies.  The  book  is  elegantly 
printed  and  bound,  and  generously  illustrated."  —  Pittsburg  Despatch. 

"  This  book  reminds  one  of  Dickens's  Child's  History  of  England,  and 
we  could  scarcely  pay  it  a  higher  compliment.  It  begins  with  the  legends 
about  the  Northmen,  and  goes  on  with  Columbus,  the  Cabots,  De  Vaca, 
Cartier,  De  Soto,  and  so  on  down  to  Henry  Hudson.     The  beauty  of 

THE  matter  is  THAT  IT  IS  ORIGINAL, — CONSISTS  OF  EXTRACTS 
FROM   THE   ORIGINAL    NARRATIVES   OF   THE   EXPLORERS  THEMSELVES. 

It  is  a  book  for  every  boy  and  girl  in  the  land  to  read."  —  Methodist^  N.Y. 
"  Colonel  Higginson  has  searched  all  accessible  sources  for  his  materials, 
and  has  used  them  very  skilfully.  For  young  people  his  book  is  sure  to 
have  all  the  charm  of  stories  of  romance  and  adventure,  while,  at  the  same 
time,  it  conveys  information  not  readily  obtainable  in  so  pleasant  a  shape 
elsewhere.  The  attractiveness  of  the  book  is  increased  by  many  excellent 
wood-engravings,  some  of  them  full-page.  The  typography  and  paper  are 
of  the  best ;  and  in  externals  the  book  is  uniform  with  Colonel  Higginson's 
Young  Folks'  History  of  the  United  States,  which  latter  volume,  by  the 
way,  has  found  an  extensive  sphere  ot  usefulness  as  a  text-book,  as  well  as 
for  purposes  of  general  reading  and  entertainment."  —  Journal. 

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A  NEW  SERIES  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 

TTOTJIsTG    IFOXilCS' 

Heroes  of  History, 

By  GEORGE  M.  TOWLE. 

The  aim  of  this  series  is  to  relate  the  discoveries,  adventures,  dangers 
and  triumphs  of  the  "  Hero"  who  forms  the  subject  of  the  volume,  and 
to  attract  and  hold  the  attention  of  young  readers  from  beginning  to 
end  ;  giving  the  true  stories  of  those  famous  voyagers  and  discoverers, 
whose  names  are  not  unfamiliar  to  young  people,  but  whose  deeds  and 
adventures  are  not  so  well  known.  Thus,  while  the  young  reader  is 
intensely  absorbed  in  the  romantic  tale,  he  will  be  learning-  important 
and  truthful  events  of  history.     Each  volume  complete  in  itself. 

2JTO.    1. 

VASCO   DA   GAM  A': 

His  Voyages  and  Adventures.    By  George  M.  Towle.    i6mo, 

Illustrated.  $1.25. 
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brimfull  of  adventure,  and  the  book  will  be  of  great  interest  to  the  young  for  whom  it 
is  especially  prepared,  yet  not  the  less  i.iteresting  to  older  people  who  love  history,  and 
the  deeds  of  brave  men  when  the  earth  was  much  younger  than  at  present.  It  is 
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2sro.   2. 

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tive to  the  young.  Mr.  Towle  has  succeeded  in  striking  the  happy  medium  between 
dry  details  and  romantic  exuberance  in  his  '  Pizarro.'  His  story  opens  with  a  graphic 
picture  of  the  young  Pizarro's  boy-life;  and  the  author  carries  the  reader  on  step  by 
btep,  with  the  career  of  the  adventurous  youth,  until  the  conquest  of  Peru  is  com- 
pleted." —  New  Havtn  Register. 

iTO.    3. 

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struction and  entertainment  so  successfully  inaugurated  by  the  pub- 
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HiGGiNsoN's  Short  Studies 

—  OF  — 

AMERICAN  AUTHORS. 

Cloth,  75  Cents. 


EXCERPTS    FROM   THE   PRESS. 

"In  this  small,  wafer-like  volume,  Mr.  Thomas  Wentworth  Higginson  has 
managed  to  condense  a  vast  amount  of  valuable  literary  criticism.  His  Studies, 
though  brief,  are  characterized  by  great  discrimination  and  force,  and  marked  by  an 
unusual  delicacy." — Ne%v  York  Graphic. 

"  The  sketch  on  Hawthorne  is  exquisite  in  its  way.  It  shows  a  true  appreciation 
of  the  man,  and  a  rare  insight  both  of  his  mind  and  his  works.  Mr.  W.  D.  Howells 
of  the  Atlantic  Monthly  has  never  received  a  more  just  and  appreciative  notice  than 
Mr.  Higginson  has  given  him.  The  paper  on  Henry  James.  Jr.,  is  the  best  piece  of 
criticism  in  the  book,  and  contains  a  number  of  delicate  and  admirable  touches." — 
Neiv  York  Express. 

"  The  volume  is  to  be  commended,  not  only  for  its  style,  but  for  a  certain 
elevation  of  thought  which  Col.  Higginson  seems  never  to  lose." — New  York 
Christian  Uftion. 

"  They  form  a  series  of  pictures  beautiful  in  outline  and  eminently  instructive 
as  character  studies." — Providence  Journal. 

"  These  little  essays  are  fresh,  crisp,  incisive." — Neiu  England  Meihodi^t. 

"  A  comprehensive  literary  history  completed  in  this  .'^tyle  would  be  a  work  of 
genius  as  well  as  a  creation  of  art.  But  if  the  exquisite  mosaics  which  are  the 
fruit  of  minute,  instinctive  and  almost  unconscious  touches  can  be  made  little  use  of 
in  great  architectural  designs,  they  have  a  beauty  of  their  own  which  is  none  the  less 
delightful  and  precious.'  — Neiv  York  Tribune.  • 


ROOM    FOR   ONE    MORE, 

By  Mary  Thacher  Higginson. 


*'  The  book  is  free  from  any  of  those  morbid  feelings  which  mar  many  stories." 
—  Cambridge   Tribune. 

"Fresh  and  bright." — Bostoti   Transcript. 

"A  fresh,  sweet  and  true  story." — Zion's  Advocate. 

"  A  very  bright  and  entertaining   account  of  some  extremely  natural  girls  and 
boys." —  Con^regationalist. 

i6mo,   Cloth,   Illustrated,  $1.25. 
*»*  Sold  by  all  Booksellers,  and  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price. 


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HIGGINSON'S   WORKS. 


I. 

OUT-DOOR  PAPERS.     i6rao.    i^i.50. 

"That  wise  and  gracious  Bible  of  physical  education."  —  Prof.  M.  C.  Tyler, 
in  Brownville  Papers. 

"  The  chapters  on  '  Water-LiHes,'  '  The  Life  of  Birds,'  and  'The  Piocession  ot 
Flowers '_  are  charming  specimens  of  a  poetic  faculty  in  description,  combined 
with  a  scientific  observation  and  analysis  of  nature."  —  London  Patriot. 

II. 

MALBONE:  AN  OLDPORT  ROMANCE.     i6mo.    $1.50. 

"As  a  'romance*  it  seems  to  us  the  most  brilliant  that  has  appeared  in  this 
country  since  Hawthorne  (whom  the  author  in  some  points  has  the  happiness  t3 
resemble)  laid  down  the  most  fascinating  pen  ever  held  by  an  American  author."  — 
John  G.  Saxe. 

III. 
ARMY  LIFE  IN  A  BLACK  REGIMENT.    i6mo.    $1.50. 

"  His  narratives  of  his  worlcs  and  adventures  in  *  The  Atlantic  Monthly*  attracted 
general  attention  by  their  graphic  humor  and  their  picturesque  and  poetical  de« 
Bcriptions."  —  London  Spectator, 

IV. 

ATLANTIC  ESSAYS.     i2mo.    $1.50. 

**  A  book  which  will  most  assuredly  help  to  raise  the  standard  of  American  lit- 
erature. Mr.  Higginson's  own  style  is,  after  Hawthorne's,  the  best  which  America 
has  yet  produced.  He  possesses  simplicity,  directness,  and  grace.  We  must 
strongly  recommend  this  volume  of  essays,  not  to  be  merely  read,  but  to  be 
studied.  It  is  as  sound  in  substance  as  it  is  gracefuj^  expression." —  Westmift- 
ster  Review. 


OLDPORT  DAYS.    With  10  Helwtype  Illustrations.   i2mo.  $2.00. 

"  Mr.  Higginson's  '  Oldport  Days '  have  an  indescribable  charm.  The  grace  and 
refinement  of  his  style  are  exquisite.  His  stories  are  pleasant;  his  pictures  of 
children  and  his  talk  about  them  are  almost  pathetic  in  their  tenderness:  but  in  his 
descriptions  of  nature  he  is  without  a  rival.'  — Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 


SHORT  STUDIES  OF  AMERICAN  AUTHORS.    Reprintea 
from  "  The  Literary  World." 

ROOM   FOR   ONE   MORE.     A   Story  for  Children.     By 
Mary  Tiiacher  Higginson. 

LEE  &.  SHEPARD,  Publishers,  Boston 


THE  BEST   OF  AMERICAN   FICTION. 


A  PAPER  CITY. 

By  D.  R.  Locke  (Petroleum  V.  Nasby).     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 
"We  venture  to  say  that  few  new  books  will  be  read  with  more  erjoyment  th?n  t'-ak 
one.     It  is  one  of  the  finest  bits  of  history  and  character-drawing  ever  J.ssued  from  vh^ 
press."  —  Indianapolis  Journal. 

A  WOMAN'S  WORD,  AND  HOW  SHE  KrPT  IT. 

By  Miss  Virginia  F.  Townsend.  Author  of  "  Only  Girls,"  "  That  Queer  Girl,"  &c 
i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 
"  Miss  Townsend  has  heretofore  produced  many  quiet  and  delightful  home  volume^ 
but  in  this  new  venture  she  soars  far  above  her  former  work.  There  ii  an  intensity 
and  dramatic  interest  in  the  book  that  never  lags,  and  it  possesses  a  pure  element  tha' 
gives  it  the  right  tone  and  finish,"  —  Modern  Argus ^  N.Y. 

HIS  INHERITANCE. 

By  Miss  Adeline  Trafton.  Author  of  "An  American  Girl  Abroad,"  "  Katherin' 
Earle,"  &c.  lamo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 
"  Miss  Trafton,  the  daughter  of  a  well-known  divine,  has  in  previous  books,  notable 
'An  American  Girl  Abroad,'  won  a  rejjutation  for  lively  writing  of  the  purest  type 
In  this,  her  latest  venture,  she  is  charmingly  fascinating,  not  only  in  the  story  itself, 
but  the  manner  of  telling  it.  Pathos,  humor,  character,  stand  out  in  every  thing  coi 
nected  with  the  heroes  and  heroines  of  the  tale."  —  Provide7ice  Despatch. 

AGAMENTICUS. 

By  E.  P.  Tenney  (President  of  Colorado  College) .     Author  of  "  Coronation."    Squa'  ? 
i6mo.     Classic  size,  $1.25. 
*'  As  a  study  of  life  and  character,  brimful  of  laughter-provoking,  quaint  and  though^  . 
awakening  surprises,  for  dyspeptics  who  cannot  go  to  Saratoga,  and  intellectual  peopl 
getting  short  of  ideas,  we  confidently  commend  it  as  the  book  of  the  season."  —  Cnt 
cago  Advance. 

AN  AMERICAN  CONSUL  ABROAD. 

By  Samuel  Sampleton  (Luigi  Monti). 
"  The  sixpenny  way  in  which  our  consular  service  is  managed  has  made  it  ridiculous 
at  home  and  abroad:  hence  the  troubles  which  beset  poor  Mr.  Sampleton  in  his  attem^'t 
to  live  within  his  income,  and  at  the  same  time  maintain  the  dignity  of  the  office,  arf 
not  overdrawn,  and  the  book  may  do  a  good  work.  It  is  very  readable,  and  interwoveA 
with  the  story  is  a  fund  of  information  which  will  interest  any  reader  who  is  not  fami)' 
iar  with  the  consular  service." —  Taunton  Gazette. 

MR.  PETER  CREWITT. 

By  the  author  of  '*  That  Husband  of  Mine,"  "That  Wife  of  Mine,"  "  Rothmell,"  Sp^, 
T6mo.  Cloth,  $1.00.  Paper,  50  cents. 
"  It  is  full  of  quaintness,  abounds  in  humor,  and  is  pathetic  with  all  the  rest.  Ouf 
readers  need  no  urging  from  us  to  procure  this  issue,  as  it  is  one  of  the  brightest  and 
raciest  of  books  of  its  kind  ever  placed  before  the  public,  and  is  sprightly  and  enter 
taining  from  beginning  to  end."  —  N.  B.  Standard. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers  and  newsdealers,  and  sent  by  mail,  postpaid,  on 
receipt  of  price. 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers Boston. 

C.  T.  DILLINGHAM New  York. 


HIGGINSON'S   WORKS. 


I. 

OUT-DOOR  PAPERS.     i6mo.    $1.50. 

"That  wise  and  gracious  Bible  of  physical  education."  —  Prof.  M.  C.  Tyler, 
in  Brownville  Papers, 

"  The  chapters  on  '  Water-Lilies,'  '  The  Life  of  Birds,"  and  '  The  Procession  ol 
Flowers'  are  charming  specimens  of  a  poetic  faculty  in  description,  combined 
with  a  scientific  observation  and  analysis  of  nature."  —  London  Patriot, 

II. 

MALBONE:  AN  OLDPORT  ROMANCE.     i6mo.     $1.50. 

"As  a  'romance*  It  seems  to  us  the  most  brilliant  that  has  appeared  in  this 
country  since  Hawthorne  (whom  the  author  in  some  points  has  the  happiness  to 
resemble)  laid  down  the  most  fascinating  pen  ever  held  by  an  American  author."  — 
John  G.  Saxe. 

III. 

ARMY  LIFE  IN  A  BLACK  REGIMENT.    i6mo.    $1.50. 

"  His  narratives  of  his  works  and  adventures  in  '  ITie  Atlantic  Monthly '  attracted 
general  attention  by  their  graphic  humor  and  their  picturesque  and  poetical  de- 
scriptions."—  London  Spectator. 

IV. 
ATLANTIC  ESSAYS.     i2mo.    $1.50. 

"  A  book  which  will  most  assuredly  help  to  raise  the  standard  of  American  lit- 
erature. Mr.  Higginson's  own  style  is,  after  Hawthorne's,  the  best  which  America 
has  yet  produced.  He  possesses  simplicity,  directness,  and  grace.  We  must 
strongly  recommend  this  volume  of  essays,  not  to  be  merely  read,  but  to  be 
studied.  It  is  as  sound  in  substance  as  it  is  graceful  in  expression."  —  Westtnin- 
iter  Review, 

V. 

OLDPORT  DAYS.    With  10  Heliotype  Ilhtstrations,   i2mo.  $2.00. 

*'  Mr.  Higginson's  *  Oldport  Days '  have  an  indescribable  charm.  The  grace  and 
refinement  of  his  style  are  exquisite.  His  stories  are  pleasant;  his  pictures  of 
children  and  his  talk  about  them  are  almost  pathetic  in  their  tenderness :  bi:t  in  his 
descriptions  of  nature  he  is  without  a  nval."  —  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 


SHORT  STUDIES  OF  AMERICAN  AUTHORS.    Reprinted 
from  "  The  Literary  World." 

ROOM   FOR   ONE   MORE.     A    Story  for  Children.     By 
Mary  Thacher  Higginson. 


LEE  &.  SHEPARD.  Publishers,  Boston 


THE   BEST   OF   GOOD   READING. 


THE  FALL.  OF  DAMASCUS. 

By  William  Wells  Russell.     i2mo.    Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  In  vigor  of  style,  in  freshness  of  thought,  and  in  dramatic  power,  superior  to  any 
American  novel  recently  issued  from  the  press."  —  Halifax  (Va.)  Record. 

"  The  author  is  new  to  us,  but  he  has  written  a  powerful  fiction.  The  subject,  the 
period,  the  characters,  the  love  story  sandwiched  in,  all  conspire  to  make  the  feat  diffi- 
cult of  success.     And  yet  the  fiction  is  a  grand  success."  —  Providence  Press. 

BLUFFTON. 

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"  This  novel  is  not  a  novel.  It  is  really  a  controversial  theologic  discussion  from 
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tells  an  interesting  story.  It  is  written  with  great  clearness  and  vigor,  and  is  one  of 
the  most  interesting  books  recently  published.  Its  characters  are  only  sketched;  but 
they  are  sketched  with  a  clear,  free,  and  bold  hand."  —  Detroit  Tribune. 

ROTHMELL. 

By  the  author  of  "  Mr.  Peter  Crewitt,"  "  That  Husband  of  Mine,"  "^hat  Wife  of 
Mine,"  &c.  izmo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 
"  A  work  of  very  great  merit  and  interest,  and  reminds  us  somewhat  of  some  of 
Mrs.  Burnett's  best  productions—  *  That  Lass  o'Lowne's,'  for  example.  The  story,  a 
touching  one  in  itself,  is  most  feelingly  told,  and  while  not  in  any  manner  overdrawn, 
it  possesses  all  the  elements  of  the  highest  order  of  romance,  which  is  the  romance  of 
real  life."  —  Bancroft  Messenger,  San  Francisco. 

SEOLA. 

i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  A  strange  and  wonderful  work  of  imagination."      Indianapolis  Tribune. 

"  One  of  the  most  singular  works  ever  written,  "leing  neither  history  nor  theology, 
but  a  story  founded  in  strict  concordance  with  the  sacred  writings  of  the  Hebrews 
and  traditions  of  other  nations.  A  work  of  which  any  one  might  feel  proud."  —  Sche- 
nectady Union. 

NOBODY'S    HUSBAND. 

i6mo.  Cloth,  $1.00.  Paper,  50  cents. 
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on  railroad  and  steamboat  of  a  bachelor  gentleman  and  his  friend's  wife,  a  young  lady 
accustomed  to  enjoy  her  own  way,  a  baby,  a  dog,  and  an  Irish  servant-girl.  The  book 
is  full  of  the  author's  peculiar  humor,  and  the  haps  and  mishaps  of  the  party  are 
sketched  with  some  force." —  Toronto  Monthly. 

A  YEAR  WORTH  LIVING. 

By  Rev.  W,  M.  Baker.  Author  of  "The  New  Timothy,"  "Mose  Evans,"  &c 
i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 
"  Really  a  novel  of  merit.  The  characters  are  distinctly  and  artistically  drawn. 
They  become  people  to  us  fully  as  much  as  do  Dickens's  characters,  and  still  are  not  so 
exaggerated.  The  descriptions  of  scenery  are  fine.  The  scourge  of  the  South,  the 
yellow  fever,  is  depicted  in  all  its  horror;  we  know  the  aulftor  is  acquainted  with  it. 
Take  it  through  and  through,  and  it  is  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  books  we  have  read 
lately,"  —  Indianapolis  Tributie. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers  and  newsdealers,  and  sent  by  mail,  postpaid,  on 
receipt  of  price. 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers Boston. 

C.  T.  DILLINGHAM New  York. 


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